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Duck, Duck, Dead Duck; chapter five

“If I were hiding something, where would it be?”  I muttered, prowling the green room early in the morning.  Eddie was around somewhere, but not in the green room.  I was glad he had been at the park because otherwise I would have been forced to scale the outside gate and to open the door with the number which I wasn’t supposed to have, but which I had seen Eddie enter once.  The last thing I wanted was to call attention to myself while I tossed the joint.  I was the only one in the green room, which made it easier to snoop.  It was Friday, but it didn’t feel much like the weekend.  I was glad I had Saturday and Sunday off to recover from the events of the last few days.

I had called the cops earlier this morning to tell them about Shannon, which made them very excited.  I talked to the male detective, Detective Bradley, and I could tell by his tone that I had just made his day.  It was obvious that they were looking at this as a case of mistaken identity.  I almost asked him if he had talked to Lydia’s mother about their last conversation, but I caught myself just in time.  It wouldn’t do to appear to interested in the case, so I practiced my golden rule—never volunteer information that wasn’t absolutely necessary to the cops.  It had kept me out of trouble thus far in my life, and I saw no reason to break it now.  Detective Bradley made me promise that I would think more about if anybody had a grudge against me.

The green room did not have many hiding places, so it didn’t take me long to figure out that if Lydia had hidden something, it wasn’t in this room.  I wondered if she had hidden it in her apartment, but I dismissed that for two reasons.  One, I’ve never been there so there was no reason for her to believe that I’d be able to find something hidden in it.  Two, it was too obvious.  If someone wanted to find something of hers, that would be the first place she or he would look.  I was pretty certain that Lydia had secreted whatever it was she wanted to hide somewhere around the park.  The problem was figuring out where, but she seemed to have faith in me.  I was beginning to think it was misplaced, but I soldiered on.

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Dogged Ma; chapter five

 

Chapter Five

First thing I did when I got home was take a bubble bath.  Well, second thing after tucking my Hermes scarf safely in my dresser drawer.  I deserved the bubbles after such a harrowing experience, and I could soak as long as I liked since I didn’t have to get up at any certain time tomorrow.  I was luxuriating in a milk bubble bath with candles flickering, the late, great Barry White on the CD player.  I had a glass of red wine from which I periodically sipped.  I closed my eyes as the tension ebbed from my body.  I didn’t want to think about anything, and a bubble bath was the only thing that allowed me not to think.  Well, that and cleaning, but I was in no mood to clean.  A slob by nature, I turned into Donna Reed on crack when I cleaned.  If I had been a fifties’ housewife, I would have had to be sedated 24/7 because somebody would always be tracking dirt on MY CLEAN FLOOR.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”  I sighed at the sound of God’s voice.  He seemed to take a perverse delight visiting me while I was laving.  I wondered if there was something salacious in this occurrence.  “It’s the only time you’re not occupied with anything else,” God said, sounding amused.  “Besides which, it’s the only time you really relax.  A relaxed you bodes better for our conversations.”

“Dual monologues,” I interposed, still not opening my eyes.  “You say Your thing and I say my thing, but they don’t often intersect.”  I paused as I loofahed my elbow.  “To what do I owe this pleasure?”  I wasn’t the most gracious of hosts, granted, but He wasn’t the most gracious of guests, either, so that made us even.

“Just wanted to see how the evening went,” God said, His voice casual.  I finally looked at Him and saw that He had chosen purple this time.  It was a good color on Him, but I loath to tell Him so.  He seemed to have more good colors than bad, which made sense, I supposed.

“What was so urgent You had to leave?”  I countered, closing my eyes again.  I didn’t want to become accustomed to the sight of God in all His glory; I just wanted Him to go away.

“Can’t tell you,” God said tersely.  “I had to leave Zeke in charge.”

“What exactly does Zeke do?”  I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.  Of course, I’d read about the Angel of Death and all his duties, but Zeke didn’t seem to fit the stereotype.  He certainly wasn’t as good-looking or compassionate as the Angel of Death on that angel show some time ago—the one with the Irish angel and the African-American angel.

“Trade secret,” God said briskly.  I peeked at Him, only to find Him staring at me in return.  I closed my eyes again.  “I told you to tell Ned’s parents before the shindig, not after.”

“What difference would it have made?”  I exclaimed, sitting straight up in the tub and opening my eyes at the same time.  When I realized I was flashing my breasts at God, well, I sunk back down in a hurry.  This was getting old.  There had to be some way to keep the Almighty out of my bathroom.

“Not a chance,” God said cheerfully, humming a tune under his breath.  It took me a minute to recognize it as ‘I Like the Way You Move’ by Big Boi of Outkast.  Great.  God’s a rap fan.  Who would have figured?  “The difference is that the Changs would have went through with the party and would have time to simmer down.”

“You really are an optimist, aren’t You?”  I asked, my tone incredulous.  “Telling them before would have been worse because their indignation would have had time to grow.  Mr. Chang carries a grudge like nobody I’ve seen before.  One time, an acquaintance of his didn’t say hi to him as they crossed paths downtown, and Mr. Chang didn’t speak to him for a year.  There is no way in hell that he would have calmed down about Ned being gay, especially if we’d told him with his friends there.”

“At least you got a date out of it,” God said, sounding impossibly smug.

“Did you send Ted to dinner tonight?”  I asked suspiciously.  I wouldn’t put it past Him to pull a stunt like that.

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