Saturday, April 4, 2015

Hector’s Pelican



               Northwalk stretches along the edge of town between the shoreline and a long row of summer rentals.  It is for the most part just a wooden walkway lined on one side with small tourist shops selling tee shirts, cheese burgers and boating paraphernalia.  The other side, from the pier supports to as far as you can see and then some is the Pacific Ocean, complete with majestic sunsets, some very ugly fish and a smattering of shipwrecks. 


               Morning, noon and night pelicans and seagulls sit atop these pilings watching for fish and snacking on the trail of debris that follows almost every tourist.  The tourists are slobs, they are rude and obnoxious and they spend their vacation money on beach trinkets and crap.  At least that’s the way I feel about it.  The shop owners all contribute to a fund which pays me $68.00 a week to keep the walkway hosed off and free of bird poop.  I am Hector Lemon and I work my magic in the wee hours of the morning, before the joggers and early risers show up and way before the shops set out their signs, tee shirt stands and postcard racks. 


               Lucy Harper owns The Nautical Smile, a gift shop specializing in local paintings and sculptures and she is also Northwalk’s chairperson and my supervisor, so-to-speak.  Any shopkeeper wishing special attention from me or having an issue with their section of the walkway deals with Lucy and she contacts me.  This keeps all confusion and misunderstandings to a minimum.  It is a system that has for several years worked very well. 


               That is until last Monday morning.  That’s when my body was discovered under the wooden walkway down by Beach Burgers.  I had been murdered during those wee hours when I should have been hosing things off and now I can do nothing but watch things unfold, as discoveries and accusations are made, fingers are pointed and officials cart my body off to do who knows what.  I can’t really describe exactly where it is I’m seeing all of this from, I mean as I no longer have a body.  It’s just strange; I see and hear everything but can’t interact with anything.  At least I don’t think I can.  It’s all very new to me, this being dead.


               I don’t feel hungry or pain or even the ocean breeze.  I’m not warm or cold.  I just seem to be here and watching stuff taking place.  It’s sort of cool if you think about it.   Like I know there is an important clue still under the walkway and if they don’t discover it soon the tide will carry it off.  Oh yeah, I can’t smell the ocean either.  Trust me, most days down here not being able to smell what the tide brings in is a good thing.  


               I’m surprised at the number of shop owners who are happy to hear I’m dead.  I thought I was an alright kinda guy.  I did my job, maybe grumbled about the slobs a little too much but hey, how hard is it to hit the trash can from less than a foot away?  Give me a break. 



               What didn’t surprise me is how hard Lucy is taking it.  She and I were tight.  She understood me and I even saw her a few times sweeping up in front of her store so I wouldn’t have to deal with it.  I know she was fond of me just by the way she never ordered me around; I know how some supervisors are – the power goes straight to their head.  They turn into maniacs.  Lucy was cool that way.  She’d explain which area of Northwalk I should concentrate on and that would keep those particular shop owners from getting on her case.  We had a system and it worked.


               The only thing Lucy’s husband did right was to leave her a massive insurance check when he died.  That kind of surprised me.  Even though I never met him, the guy was pretty much a flake in my book but he certainly left her with no worries.  She used to tell me about their house in Del Mar.  It sounded like some mansion up on the cliffs with a view that wrapped all the way around the earth.  The house alone would have brought her enough to live on forever, but his insurance added greatly to that.  I’ll bet if Lucy wanted to she could buy all of Northwalk with the chump change in her purse.


               It’s funny but I don’t feel bad seeing her crying over me.  I don’t seem to have any emotions at all come to think of it.  I’m not happy or sad.  I’m not sure what I am. This is all very odd.  I don’t even care who killed me or why.  It doesn’t appear to matter much.  These detectives though seem to be still worked up about it.  This is their fourth trip back here and this Frank whatshisname is headed back into Lucy’s store – again.   I say it like that because I think he likes her more than he’s trying to solve my case.   It’ll be fun to see how this turns out. 


               I wonder if I get any smarter now or if I stay the same.  It would be cool if I had some special powers I didn’t know about yet.  This is too much to think about.  I think I’ll just watch and see what happens next.



Chapter 1




            The tiny brass bell over the front door bounced about as Frank Lawton entered The Nautical Smile.  Lucy looked up from behind the counter.  She knew why he was there and it wasn’t to purchase a lighthouse painting or ceramic fisherman.  Out of habit Frank pulled out his little notebook and pen but then just as quickly slipped them into the side pocket of his sport coat.  He wasn’t half way across the floor when Lucy spoke.


            “Was there something else you needed detective?”


            Frank stopped short.  He wasn’t sure just how honest he should be right now.  He had never been much of a smooth talker when it came to women and just blurting out that he liked her and wanted to take her to dinner was pushing him way out of his comfort zone, not to mention all very awkward should she be put off by the thought of it.


            “Is this about Hector?”


            “No, Miss Harper, it isn’t.”  He waited for her to jump in and say, call me Lucy, but she didn’t.  “I was wondering if you might be…”


            Suddenly someone else was speaking.  He looked over to his left and there were two customers he hadn’t even noticed when he had walked in.  One was holding up a small painting of a sailboat and was asking if they could buy it without the frame.


            Lucy looked at Frank for a second and then over to the two ladies.  “No, I’m sorry.  The paintings are sold as you see them.  In fact that particular artist puts great effort into making sure there is a seamless flow between their work and the presentation of it.”


            The customer wrinkled her nose at it and set it back down.  Suddenly Frank felt very awkward as he was still standing mid-shop and hadn’t advanced in either his request or movement.  Lucy looked back at Frank waiting for him to say something.


            “I should come back.  You’re busy.”


            “What do you want detective?”


            Now she sounded annoyed.  As detectives go Frank may not be sharp enough to notice other people in the store when he walks in but he could see in her facial expression the moment she said it she knew it had come out rather harsh. He needed to go for it but not from across the room.  He walked up to the counter and in a much softer voice asked if she would be free for dinner. 

He felt immediately relieved when the words came out but now she was just looking at him like she had to mentally translate Detective into English before she could respond.


            “That would be nice.” She said with a rather pleasant smile.



            The following Friday night Frank found himself sitting across from Lucy sipping his Crown Royal and trying to keep up with awkward small talk until the waiter returned with their dinners. Being overly nervous about the evening Frank had consumed two drinks even before picking Lucy up for their date.  Now he couldn’t even remember the name of the fancy French restaurant they were sitting in. 


            Lavez-vous les mains, was all he could remember and he couldn’t even recall where he had seen that.  He fussed with his napkin again while Lucy went on and on about the various shop owners along Northwalk.  She seemed to know them all very well and had strong opinions about each. 


            The topic of Hector came up half way through dinner and Frank tried politely to let Lucy know he was off duty and didn’t really want to pay these kind of dinner prices while talking about a case but the more Lucy talked about it the more emotional she became and wasn’t really listening to his objections about the topic.


            Suddenly Lucy touched on something that Frank wasn’t aware of; Hector’s great dislike for the tourists.  He reached across the table and took hold of Lucy’s hand.  She stopped talking and looked at him.


            “This whole time I have been concentrating on the shop owners as suspects.  I never knew Hector had openly verbalized his negative opinions to the tourists themselves.” Frank said with slight embarrassment.


            But Lucy was only half listening to Frank.  His hand on hers had brought her focus to a palpable reality that she was on a date.  She gradually felt very aware of herself and pondered how she had let herself get into this position.  She pulled her hand away and sat back in her chair just looking at Frank, at his clothes, his posture and wondered just who this guy was.  The look on her face must have spoken volumes to Frank as he too sat back and quickly apologized for touching her hand.


            The rest of the dinner was finished in awkward silence and clumsy attempts at small talk.  When they left the restaurant they walked down Hampton, west towards Northwalk.  They could see the lights in the distance that ran along the walkway and they could hear the sea lions barking down at the pier just to the south but neither of them was saying anything.  


Suddenly Lucy let out a scream and at the same moment Frank ducked.  A very large pelican had silently glided just inched over their heads.  It had come from behind so neither saw it coming; and then very gracefully it landed a few feet in front of them, turned to face them and spread out its massive wings, as if it were some traffic cop signaling them to stop.



            “What is it doing?” Lucy whispered.


            “I haven’t got a clue but let’s just stand here for a minute and don’t move.”


            “No problem.” Lucy said, slowly taking hold of Franks sport coat.


            It was like a stand-off, the pelican stood its ground and held its wings fully stretched and Frank and Lucy just stood looking at it.


            “Maybe it’s sick; you know… rabies or something.” Lucy said out of the side of her mouth.


“If there were more people out walking tonight it might not be so brave.  I have never seen a bird act like this. Let’s take a step back and then turn to our left and head down Parker Street.”


            Still holding tight to Frank’s sleeve, Lucy followed Franks lead and they slowly turned and took a step towards Parker.  The pelican didn’t object; in fact it pulled its wings in and just watched them as they backed away.


            “That was weird.”  Lucy said, letting go of Frank’s coat.


            “This will put us at the wrong end of Northwalk but it’s a nice night for a walk don’t you think?”  Frank had liked Lucy holding tight to his sleeve but still felt awkward about touching her hand at the table and she didn’t seem to be very talkative either.


            “Frank, I want to thank you for the lovely evening, but the truth is I haven’t dated in several years.  I really don’t know why I agreed to… What I mean is, you seem like a very nice person and…” Lucy suddenly stopped and again grabbed at Frank’s sleeve.


            Frank looked up and saw that once again the pelican had placed itself in their path.  This time however it didn’t appear to be blocking their path but was holding something in its mouth.


            The pelican dropped the item and backed up a couple steps.


            “Can you see what that is?” Frank asked Lucy.


            “Looks too small to be a fish but I’m not walking up there to see.” She replied.


“Is that even the same bird?” Frank said, taking a slow step forward.


“It’s too dark out.  I didn’t even notice it until it was suddenly just there.  But I’ll wait here if you want to go up and check.”


“It looks like what it dropped is a wallet.”


As Frank stepped closer the giant bird moved back. 


            “Be careful Frank, if that bird is sick you’re not going to want pelican drool on you.”


Frank pulled out his handkerchief and carefully reached down for the billfold but stopped short.


“It’s not a wallet.” Franks voice sounded a little strained to Lucy.


            Lucy took a step farther back and said, “What is it Frank?” 


            “Stay back there; I’m going to call this in.”


            “Frank?”


“Its part of a swim fin with part of a foot still in it.”


            Lucy’s first impulse was not to vomit but to immediately consider how news like this would impact her business.  None of the shop keepers ever wanted bad news to get out to the public, and that very topic was always touched upon in their monthly meetings.  Even Hector’s death had been kept as quite as possible, and to this end all the shop owners could be seen out cleaning the walkway in front of their own shops until a replacement for Hector could be found.  


           

            “I must say Frank; you sure know how to show a girl a good time.”



But Frank was already on his cell phone describing their location and having some difficulty getting across to them that a pelican had simply dropped the foot right in front of them.


Chapter 2


             

            Lucy had not heard back from Frank since that night. She had been checking the daily papers every morning for articles about the foot but so far she hadn’t seen anything.

There were several applications on her desk that had been turned in for Hector’s job.  They had all been generated through word-of-mouth as Lucy had not advertised the position but rather each shop owner had put the word out into the beach community that a night man was needed.   She hadn’t been in a mood to start the interviews but knew the other shop owners wouldn’t keep cleaning up their own places for too much longer.  In fact, Gary Driskel from Beach Burgers had already grumbled to her about picking up the pace a little on getting Hector replaced.


            That night, after Lucy closed up her shop she took the stack of applications home with her.  After her dinner she fixed a Manhattan and sat at her dining room table and started reading through the pile of applications.  She couldn’t seem to focus, instead her mind was just wandering as her eyes were skimming the pages, glancing at the various miss-spellings, the words that had been scribbled over with other words squeezed in above or next to them.  She found herself smiling at them, seeing them for the first time as a sort of artwork.  She even held one up to the light trying to imagine how it would look with a frame around it.  But then something odd caught her attention.  Written just below the signature at the bottom it said, I am the pelican.


            Lucy couldn’t stop staring at it.  What was that supposed to mean?  Did this person know about what had happened that night with her and Frank and the foot or was this some cruel joke?  But how, no one knew about the pelican except her and the police.  She wanted to call Frank but she seemed frozen, holding the application and staring at those words.  I am the pelican.  It was creepy and she finally set it down and took a healthy sip of her drink.


            The name on the application was Scratchy Fernandez and the phone number was local.  She wanted to call it but the urge to tell Frank was stronger, even though she really didn’t want to start that whole thing up again she dialed Frank’s cell phone.


           

            Frank sounded surprised to hear Lucy on the phone and quickly apologized for not having called her sooner with updates on the case, citing as an excuse that there really hadn’t been any.  Lucy suggested he stop by the shop tomorrow and she would show him something.  “It isn’t anything I want to tell you over the phone Frank.  I just want you to look at it and then tell me what you think.”


               When Lucy arrived to open her shop the following morning Frank was already there standing out by one of the posts just looking out at the ocean.  When he heard her keys at the lock he turned and walked over.


               “Good-morning Lucy.”


               Lucy turned and saw Frank walking up. “There was no need to be here first thing but I’m glad you’re here before I open for business.  Come in.”


               “I have been going through applications for Hector’s job and I think you need to see one of them.”


 Frank looked surprised.  “Do you mean people really have to fill out an application to get a job hosing off a walk and picking up trash?”


               Lucy looked at him.  “These are not college entrance exams Frank, but we do have to know who we hire and a little something about them.  And to even call them applications is a stretch.  It’s not unusual for them to be filled out with stubby golf pencils, turned in crumpled or folded several times, torn in half and all too often stained with mustard and relish.  These are beach applicants we’re talking about.  Sometimes homeless, most times in serious need of a bath.  The hardest part of the job for them will be to fill out this form and come up with a phone number where they can be reached.


               Anyway, take a look at this one and tell me what you think.”


               Frank took the application and immediately said, “There is something familiar about the date on this.”


               Lucy took it back and looked at the date.  Her expression was that of confusion but suddenly appeared startled and handed it quickly back to Frank.  “I just got this application two days ago but the date on here is the date Hector was killed.” her voice sounding a little shaky.


               Frank continued scanning the page and then saw the name at the bottom; “Scratchy Fernandez?  Is that what you wanted me to see?


               Lucy didn’t respond but waited for him to keep reading.


“What the...”  The expression on Frank’s face had said it all. 


               “That’s what I wanted you to see.” Lucy sat down at her desk and the two of them just stared at each other.



The “D” Tective Agency


 

Today's Episode...
Keep-away

 

          They were best friends and decided in the seventh grade they were going to be world famous detectives.  It made sense that Danielle Porter and Dana Hunter keep the name they had come up with so many years ago when their English teacher had announced to the entire class that the two giggling girls would forever be “D” students. That was the name they had stenciled on their bedroom doors, and now - 14 years later, it was on their 5th floor office, in the UTB Bank building in downtown Cargo Falls.

 

          They had chosen the bank building for their office not so much because the rent was cheap, because it wasn’t, but because the giant U.T.B. letters at the top of the building, in their minds, stood for, “Under the Bed”, which is where they would always hide when they were kids, whenever they were scared or in trouble.

 

       Danielle, with her short, business type hair was the more stylish dresser and kept a firm grip on their finances, while Dana was still more of a tomboy, just as she had been when she was growing up, and she was definitely the more athletic of the two.

 

          It was in anticipation of trouble that Dana had put herself through self-defense classes, mastering both Judo and Aikido.  With the exception of the insect world, Dana was extremely brave and adventurous, while Danielle was much more refined, and could charm the sly off of a fox. 

 

          It was Danielle who had convinced the two biggest law firms in town to use their services whenever they needed investigative work done, and one of those firms, Klein, Flynn and Drake occupied the whole 9th floor, right there in the UTB building.  It was Hamilton Drake himself, who had phoned Danielle and asked them both to come up to his office. 

 

          The two women rode up in the posh elevator wondering why Drake had called them personally.  In the past, a bonded runner hand-delivered a manila envelope full of instructions and scheduled deadlines, but that was when they were working out of their apartment. 

 

Now they were here, working in the same building as their client and still giggling about it as they rode up to the 9th floor.  

 

 

 Danielle checked herself out in the highly polished mirror as they stepped off the elevator.  She was pleased with her new shoes.  They had just enough heel to make her seem taller than Dana.  When they got to Drake’s outer office, Nora Evens, Mr. Drake’s receptionist told them to go right in.      

 

The office was an impressive display of rich leather and highly polished mahogany.  There were four photographs of a large sailing vessel on one wall, and several awards proudly displayed across from the glassed-in bookcases.

 

Behind the desk, and next to the window that overlooked downtown Cargo Falls, hung two degrees, the top one was from Harvard Law School, and below that was a Master’s degree in criminal justice from Duke University.

 

As the two detectives stood looking around, Drake entered the office from a side door.

 

“Have a seat, ladies.  Thank you for meeting with me”

 

Dana sat in one of the two chairs that faced Drake’s desk and said, “Looks a lot like our office.”

 

Drake didn’t smile.  He sat on the front edge of his desk and after a momentary pause said,

“At the moment I do not need your investigative services.  We do have a situation, however, that I think you may be able to help with.”

 

Danielle sat back against the soft leather back of the chair.  “We’ll need to know details of exactly what you want us to do, and what, if any, are the hazards.”

 

Drake stood up and walked around behind his desk.  Leaning forward he pressed the intercom and asked Nora to hold his calls for the moment. 

 

He looked at them both and said that if either of them had any kind of recording devices on them that they should turn them off now.  Danielle started to explain that they didn’t work like that when she noticed Dana reach into her purse and pull out a little Sony tape recorder and switch it off.

 

Danielle:  “Where did you get that?”

 

Drake: “That’s not important.  Thank you for being honest.  Before I explain the job to you I need your word that even if you refuse the task, you are never to mention this meeting or what I am about to ask you to do.”

 

Danielle was thinking that this didn’t sound like anything she wanted to get involved with, but she found herself asking what the job would pay.

 

Drake:  “I need your word before we go any further.”

 

Dana:  “We’re not going to say anything.  How much work do you think we’ll get if our own clients can’t trust us?”

 

Drake looked over at Danielle.

 

Danielle:  “We won’t tell a soul.  Now, what’s the job?”

 

Drake:  “My partners and I are working on a case right now that has taken all three of us and a small fortune to get to…  Well, let me just say that we are at a critical point and this morning when I came in I found that a note had been slipped under the door to the outer office.

 

          It basically says that a very damaging piece of evidence has been placed inside a violin case.  The case, it goes on to say, is being shipped via FedEx, from location to location.  “They” are intending to play keep-away with it until the last minute, then it will somehow be delivered to the Prosecuting Attorney, at which point the fate of our client will be sealed.”

 

Dana:  “Where do we come in?”

 

Drake:    “What I need you both to do is to hack into the FedEx system, find the package, switch it with a dummy package, so that nobody at FedEx, or anywhere else is the wiser, and…”

 

Danielle:  “Deliver it to you?”

 

Drake:  “Absolutely not.  I do not want it, I can’t even know about it.  I just need you to make sure that no one else gets it either.”

 

Dana:   “So it’s reasonable to assume that there will be people out there doing their best to see that we do not succeed?”

 

Drake:  “We are prepared to pay you $5,000.00 plus expenses.”

 

Dana:  “I’ll take that as a “Yes.”

 

Danielle:  “This is not the kind of work we do.”

 

Drake:  “I’ll understand if you turn it down.”

 

Dana:  “She didn’t say that.”

 

Drake:  “Unfortunately I can’t let you go off to think about it.  I need to know one way or the other before you leave.   I can wait in the outer office if you want to talk it over.”

 

Danielle:  “That would be nice.  Thank you.”

 

When Drake left the room, Dana turned to Danielle and whispered, “Did you get it?”

Danielle pulled a similar recording device from her purse and clicked it off.

 

Danielle:  “Every word.”

 

 
To be continued...
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm probably not in their's either


I noticed this morning as I drove in there was an absence of squirrels.   This road usually has an abundance of fur scurrying and jumping across, no wait, the other way, no… I was right the first time, it's this way.

Of course that got me to thinking about critter sleep patterns.  They must still be sleeping and that's why I haven't seen any at this hour.  That, of course, lead me to wonder about their little varmint dreams and before I knew it I was questioning why there aren't any squirrels or chipmunks in my dreams.  I don't recall ever having little furry creatures running in and out, back and forth, across my dreams. 

Maybe I shouldn't be getting up so early.  Maybe I should turn around and go back the other way and back to bed, no - I can’t, I better keep going on to work.

But  maybe more sleep…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday, April 2, 2015

...and Hands-Free Oven Mitts


 
        There are a few things I believe we do not want or need.  I've studied this for some time now and believe I've come up with an all inclusive list.  Please note: these do not appear in any order of importance. 

 

1.             A gum-chewing hostess.

2.             A Dentist with a runny nose.

3.             An unattended Service Counter.

4.             Junk Mail

5.             A waiter with a lip ring

6.             Tele-Marketing

7.             Anything from Ronco.

8.             A Garage Sale sign that can't be read at 35 MPH.

9.             Contests under bottle caps.

10.        Car Salesman who have to ask their Managers.

11.        A Greeter.

12.        Any soft drink requiring two hands.

14.        Superstitions
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 

Seems Like I Could Have Done Something

 
In the parking lot of a local Supermarket
three ducks
drinking from a puddle of rain water.
 
It never occurred to me to question
the dip in the asphalt -
I didn’t think to ponder the weather -
 
My notice focused upon the number three.
 
How odd, I thought, a duck to be missing.
They are forever in pairs -
You see a duck
and there’s another.
It’s just always that way.  Pairs of socks -
pairs of ducks.
 
Driving further into town and there she was
On her own.  Self-reliant, facing the World -
Quack, she went.  Quack.
 
Perhaps divorce?  They’re always messy.
Maybe a simple spat?
 
It could have been a wrong turn, a miss-direction
given at some crucial point in flight.
 
Quacks of Joy?  A call for help?  I had no way of knowing.
 
“Hey, they're at the market having a drink.”
 
I pointed towards the market as I drove passed her.
 
I don’t know - maybe I should have stopped.
 
 

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Final Exam


 
 

1.               In his poem, My Bathroom Sink, Mr. Corwin suggests an awareness which lacks obvious common sense, yet he eludes to a behavior reminiscent of playful impulsiveness.  Based on Plato's model of "Insightful Extraction", what color is the sink?

 

2.               Written in his later years, Zobostic reports on the World of patient care.  In his poem, Nurses, we find a massive gap between potential and kinetic with an individual immersed in the nest of attention yet left in the void of thought.  Based on the technology of the time, what color are the Nurse's shoes?

 

3.               George Orwell's 1984 spoke of "Big Brother".  In his poem, Bug de Jour, Zobostic has portrayed the homeless and destitute as main characters in a setting that leaves population control in the hands of a volatile conservationist.   His message of sending food, supplies and small wind-up toys to third World countries seems to lack the necessary foil to spark such an undertaking.

How would e.e.  cummings address this issue with respect to Corwin's use of the word "Squeak"?  Give 3 examples.

 

4.      Zobostic's poem, Two Horses, is said to be a commentary on the physical and spiritual imprint left upon the human heart by true love.  Surpassing the bounds of death itself, this imprint survives the soul and beyond any comprehension of Man once again meets with its intended mate.  Knowing what you now know and based on the knowledge that you may acquire in the future, what color is the horse facing East?