Adelaide and I

The door opened and she stood there, hands in her pockets and dripping wet from the rain. A dingy, second-floor walkup still doesn't make it easy to dry out before reaching the top of the stairs. Icing on the cake. Pat was already a drip. She stood there looking at me with her wide, pleading, wet eyes. I stared back. We'd been through this before, and she never got anywhere. Why I'd even talk with her I don't know.

She was a looker though. Five six, long auburn hair, light freckling where it looked best, and a body that wouldn't quit. She was almost perfect. But her personality left so much to be desired, it almost negated her other assets---though she could still draw my attention. That's why we were only on shaky speaking terms. In my business, I couldn't use an angry distraction.

'Well, what is it? Haven't you hurt me enough?' That was true. What else could I say?

She gave me a strange look that---ages ago it seems---used to entrance me. That look of desire. She wanted something.

'I...I need a favor,' she said in a light but husky voice. 'I had to come here. To see you. To ask you.'

Pat had pulled this on me so often in the past, I could have written an encyclopedia. In some ways I was a sucker to her pleas. But, here, I had to stand firm. If she was to get past the door jamb, she'd have to spill the beans quickly.

'Can I come in?' she asked as she came in anyway. I was a sucker and let her pass.

'Nice digs.'

'They're okay.'

'I need your help.'

'I thought you could do without me?'

'Mike, stop with all the questions. And how about answering a few for a change?' She shook out her wet hair like a collie, spraying water all 'round.

I sat down and wiped the water from my face with my sleeve, grabbed a cigarette and lit it. The smoke felt good until I started coughing.

'I thought you didn't smoke?'

'I need a bad habit to calm my nerves. Is that what you came over here to ask? You could have phoned.' I felt like I was in a 1940s pot boiler. Mickey call your office.

'You don't have a phone.'

'Buy some pigeons.'

She ignored that. 'What're you doing to earn a living?'

'You know damn well what I do. I'm an executive at a vital adjunct to City Hall.'

'You're a street sweeper! And I've got a proposition for you that will put you on easy street.'

'Who do I have to kill?' I asked seriously. Then, I laughed, and she laughed with me. That warm, tinkly, honey dripped laugh of hers that could melt icebergs and almost leave me gasping.

'No one,' she said as she bent over and quickly opened her case, removing something and turned to me. 'This is a volume from the latest edition of the 'Global American Encyclopedia.' With this set you can quickly gain the knowledge to rise.....

I sat down as she continued her spiel. Laughing and shaking my head. I poured a drink. Bourbon neat. It felt good, but she had gotten her hooks into me again.

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