I spent Saturday morning riding and working on the bike. I was trying to get it just perfect, but when I read more about the bikes, I realized that the perfect DIY bikes did not exist. It was a continuous process. Definitely not a plug and play device. Even so it appealed to me. It had been a long time since I did anything with my hands. The bike had been an affirmation of what my dad had always said, "A man is never happier than when he is working with his hands."

I hadn't eaten all day, so when I stopped at three for a bowl of cereal, I was a little shaky. I was speeding on caffeine as well as having a low sugar episode. It only took the cereal and some orange juice to put me right again. It was a good thing, since I got a call from the woman I met at the Tennessee reenactment.

"Hello Mr. Abba?" came he voice over the phone. Even the miles and the lousy quality of the electronics couldn't disguise her voice.

"Yes, is that you Jenny?"

"It is, how have you been?"

"I have been just fine, how have you been?"

"Busy getting ready for the battle of Foxton reenactment."

"Oh when is that? and where is it?"

"It's two weeks from today and it's at Foxton Kentucky."

"Oh then I might try to make it,"

"Good, Some of us saw your web page and it is marvelous. We would like for you to camp with us, if you can. You could shoot pictures around the camp, kind of document it."

"I would love to, but the old cameras just aren't up to the much work. Would they object to me using some more modern equipment."

"Not as long as you aren't too obvious about it. Don't dress period and the visitors will think you are just another tourist."

"That sounds fair, will you email me the information?"

"of course, and John?"

"Yes Jenny," My husband is looking forward to meeting you."

"Oh I had no idea you were married," I said trying not to let the disappointment show.

"Yes I'm married and have two grown children. Edward was away on a business trip during the last bivouac. He promised me faithfully that he would be at Foxton."

"Great, I look forward to meeting him." She had to know that it was a lie, but I tried to keep it sounding plausible. The chance to shoot several rolls of film was something I did not want to pass up.

We said our goodbyes. I went back to ride the bike again. The quick charger showed that it was ready to ride, so I took off for a few miles. When I returned home, I had completely forgotten about Jenny and her husband. It was getting dark so I checked my messages, then turned the computer in search of some TV show to watch. Before I knew it I was exhausted and ready for bed.

"I can see that we have a lot of work to do here," she burst into laughter at the look on my face. "Okay, I promise I won't turn the place into a faggy nightmare, but you have to let me make it more comfortable."

"Mary, this is your first visit. You may not ever want to come back." I replied, with what I thought was perfect logic.

"So what you are telling me is, not to get too comfortable." She actually laughed. It was something she could not have done a month before.

"Not at all," I replied.

"Don't worry John, I get it. This is all new to both of us. I promise I will slow down and just let it happen." She found a spot on the sofa, then asked, "Do you have anything to drink around here?"

"I think I have a little rum, I'm sure I have a diet coke. So want to try a Cuba double Libra?"

"I'm up for anything tonight."

Truer words were never spoken. Mary was not a wild lover, but she was anxious to please. She tried to read my mind, which was both erotic and a bit concerning to me. Still it was a pleasure to be with her, both at the movie and in bed. I even took her to breakfast Saturday morning, but not to the Waffle and Egg.

After Mary left I tried to rig up the bike. Since the friction drive was so inefficient I didn't plan on riding it twenty miles. My plan was to drive the car within a miles of my delivery point, then get on the bike for the last mile or so. It was just for fun and part of the cover story. I didn't really need the bike, but it was all like a big game to me at that point.

I was shocked to find how much pure fun the bike was to ride. I knew that I had to watch my distances because the batteries weren't like gasoline. I couldn't buy a charge, when I ran low. I also found the bike to be heavy and clumsy. Still it was fun to zip around the back streets. People stared at me. I wasn't quite sure if it was because they thought I was an idiot or a genius. The bike was ugly as hell, that I did know for sure.

By the time I finished with the bike for the day, it was dinner time. I had worked right through lunch. I had also missed my walk. It was the first time in months that I had done that. I was tempted to drive to the mall for a couple of quick miles, but I decided that I had done enough physical work on the bike to offset my lack of walking.

After dinner I spent the evening in thought. The bike was a bust for the express business. It was just too heavy and clumsy, but it was a huge amount of fun to ride. I knew that it was going to be a toy for me, but I didn't mind. It would be another inexpensive way to pass the time.

The idea for the post card series came to me around midnight. I figured the bike would take me out about five miles no more. Even that had to be tested with a full powered set of batteries. I knew that I could find things of interest within five miles of my home. I had the reenactments on some weekends. The image a day had been a bust, but if I combined it with my bike rides, I could start a series of postcards and call it the 'Five Miles from Ground zero' collection. The idea sounded wonderful, of course I was also half asleep. Most things sounded good ,when I was drugged by sleep deprivation.

Thing began to just drift along since the brothers couldn't get bail, and since nobody seemed to be pressing for information about Charlie or Robbie's, almost, severed finger. It might have seemed that way, but I knew better.

I debated putting a hundred bucks in a bad assed con's canteen account, to have Robbie just go away. I knew that most of the crap people got into was trying to cover us a minor crime by committing a larger one. It also knew that it would have been pretty stupid, but it was still a real temptation.

Life was truly boring for a couple of weeks. I made a few bucks delivering court papers, but that was boring as well. Without someone else having put the mooch on alert, they just seemed to take the deliveries. Even so I was just marking time till something new happened in my life. Nothing kept my interest long, so I was always on the prowl for new things. It might be that I was going to be one of those guys for whom retirement was a death sentence,

I was having thoughts of eating my gun, when the batteries arrived for my bike. Okay, not eating the gun, but I was pretty damn bored. I took the box battery from china into the kitchen. I brought in the laptop and sat it on the table along with my small tool box. I also found a roll of aluminum foil I had bought the week before. Since I ordered the batteries, I picked up the roll of foil, the roll of duct tape, and some wire in preparation.

I carefully followed the instruction as I began building the battery. It took me into the evening , but in the end I felt pretty comfortable that I had it right. The directions for the build were written by the same old man who wrote the ones to build the motor drive. He was an evil genius in my opinion. He wrote the thing step by step in deceptively easy to understand language. The problem was that it was so easy, I second guessed myself every step of the way. I knew that I wasn't quite finished with the project but I was close. I still had a few more things to do before I could test it, so I put the project away for the evening.

It was about an hour after I closed the tool box that the phone rang. I had just enough time, between the battery and the call, to grill a burger. I was chewing on it when I said. "Hello."

"John, it's Mary Seymore. Since you never call me anymore, I decided to call you. They are showing Rocky Horror Picture show tonight at the Palladium. Why don't you and I go. I'll even pay for your ticket, but you have to buy the popcorn and cokes."

"No fair, that is gonna be a lot more than the ticket to a fifty year old movie."

"Hell, if that were fifty, then I would be seventy and I'm not. Anyway they still role play and do all that other campy stuff. Come on it will be fun, after all it is Friday."

"Well, I'm always looking for a new experience, why not?"

"You mean to tell me you never saw Rocky Horror?"

"Never," I replied honestly.

"Well honey, you are in for an experience for sure. You want to come over here, or meet me at the theater?"

"The Palladium is half way, why don't I just meet you?" We agreed on a time and then hung up.

The Palladium was one of those god awful multiplex things. I had never been to see a movie there, so it was going to be a night filled with new experiences for sure.

The movie was interesting more for the audience, than the crappy story line. Still it was a fun experience. Mary's hand on my thigh was more than I expected, but I didn't push here away. I did gently take her hand and hold it in the dark. My way of saying lets not rush into anything. Hell that's what I thought it meant anyway.

It was almost two A.M. when the movie ended. Mary and I went for coffee at the all night Waffle House in the same shopping complex. There was no way I would take Mary to the Waffle and Egg back in Carthage. Frances and Mary both had that territorial thing going. Every woman I ever met had that. It is why I tried to keep my relationships with women casual.

At the waffle house Mary and I had lots of almost good coffee, while we discussed everything but here office, and my problems with the SBI. I found out about her days in high school as a nerd, and she found out that I was the kid smoking in the boy's room.

Then we talked about her college days and my military days for an equal amount of time. There could not have been two people less suited for one another. The only thing we had in common was about two minutes in the hallway outside a courtroom. I guess a near death experience trumps peer friendships. The conversation was what I had hoped for from the start. Mary seemed to have gotten past her ptsd. We were just two people again who shared a common experience not a savior and the saved. I much preferred the way things were, to the way they had been.

After an hour and no way to delay the inevitable Mary invited herself to see my house. She followed me home and was careful to park on my side of the drive.

"God do you need help with this place. Who decorated it that motorcycle builder on TV. You know the one who says fuck in at least every other sentence."

"No there was no decorator, it's just odds and ends. It was supposed to be very utilitarian and it is."

I spent the complete next day waiting for a other shoe to fall. It never did. I managed to get the 'image of the day' shot. It was an image of a historic district house, which had some nice lines. I even managed to get Misty to stand on the porch and look wistfully at the lens. The camera was good enough to catch her expression and the lines of the house as well.

In the process I made friends with the president of the Hysterical society. that contact guaranteed me limited access to all the historical sites in town. I thought that I might do a set of postcards based on a walking tour of the hysterical district. It would be nice to have Misty tag along, but she had school and Molly to worry about so it wasn't likely she would be in them all.

I didn't have any papers to deliver that day, so with my image of the day made, I settled in to learn more about the performance of the batteries I had purchased. I tried to put the whole Charlie/Robbie thing out of my mind. Since I carried the .38 snubbie where ever I went, it was difficult.

"I thought you might want to know the brothers badass were denied bail." The voice on the other end of the cell phone belonged to Louise.

"So when do they go to trial?" I asked.

"Depends on what they have to say to the DA. He is offering to drop the death penalty, if they plead out and roll on the guys in New Jersey."

"That better be all he drops," I said.

"We already told him no immunity or he will be seeing Charlie sooner than he would like. The feds want in, but the DA is going to scream holy hell. He reminded that it's an election year just in case they try to force a take over . None of them want that kind of publicity. We told the DA an old ex-cop who still had plenty of connections, would be happy to make an election issue of it. I'm pretty sure Charlie is going to get justice."

"Well I have seen a lot of immunity deals," I replied.

"Well we reminded the DA, this ain't one thug killing another thug. Charlie was a cop and they haven't been able to hang a dirty cop tag around his neck."

So that was why she was calling. She wanted to be sure that I wasn't going to put the stink on Charlie. "Don't worry Louise, I got nothing I can say about Charlie."

"I never thought you would have anything to say." I began to wonder why Louise had been so hot not to have Charlie's laundry aired. I began to wonder how clean her panties were. I could ask around, but I didn't really care anymore. I was off the line, and damn happy to be off now that all this crap was coming down.

I ordered a large pizza for dinner. I figured it was time I broke the diet. I had lost over ten pounds in the few short weeks since my retirement. Pizza and diet coke wasn't much of a celebration, unless the celebrator had been living on a diet of dry hamburger and salad. The pizza dough was a real treat.

The delivery was by a young woman with a can of pepper stray hanging from her belt. That was probably a good idea, considering she had no idea who would come to the door. Lots of bad people in the world, and even more good people who once in a while did terrible things to each other.

I ate half the pizza, then stashed the other half in the fridge. I Watched more of the old SciFi channel drama on the net, then I went to bed exhausted from doing mostly nothing.

I could have sat around stewing about the investigation supposedly of Charlie, or I could work on my image of the day. I chose the latter. The investigation would work out or not, that was something over which I had very little control.

I did get the image of the day made and processed before word of my present situation filtered down to Mary. At least it took two hours for her to call.

"John what the hell is going on?" she asked angrily.

"Not much, what's going on with you?" I knew what she meant, I was just trying to calm the situation a little..

"I talked to daddy. He said the SBI was trying to intimidate you."

"Well, something like that." I said it hoping she would calm down.

"Well, they have no idea who the hell they are screwing around with."

"Oh I'm sure they know. Don't worry honey, I expect it all to go away in a day or two."

"If we hear anything about an interview, I will personally call you."

"Mary, I don't think they really want to interview me, if it's going to be any trouble. The things I know about Charlie a hundred other guys know as well. They won't really need me to fill in the blanks. I was just the easiest place to start, they thought."

"Well don't worry, no matter what they want, I will personally see to it that nothing happens to you. At least not before our midnight picnic." She laughed before she went on. "If there is anything you need, just call me anytime. You do still have my home number?"

"Yes, I have it. Now go back to work and make a lot money, so your dad will be proud of you." I said that with a smile in my voice.

"He is already proud of me. But yes I do need to go back to work. See you soon." she said breaking the connection.

I wasn't one little bit worried about Charlie's business effecting me. I had nothing to do with it and everybody knew it. Charlie didn't even keep me in the loop about his affairs. He knew I wanted to be far away from his so called friends. That being the case, there was nothing I could or would tell the state investigators.

My concern was Robbie and his almost severed finger. I was absolutely sure he was whining about it all over the jail. It might easily have put his court appointed lawyer's panties in a wad. He might have got someone to launch an investigation. If so, the Charlie thing was just a rouse. I didn't intend to answer any questions about anything, if I could avoid it. It was my position to let the state boys try to prove something happened to Robbie. Even if they proved that it wasn't an accident let them try to prove that I did it. I had absolutely no intention of explaining anything until I had to. Then it would be on the witness stand, where I would deny everything and come up with some logical alternative answers. Plus add, "Even if I did do it the bastard killed my best friend for no good reason," that usually worked on juries, when a clean looking, decorated cop said it about a known thug.

I did plan to tell Herbert about the problem with Charlie and his killer. He needed to know why I wouldn't take questions during a probe of Charlie. If he could limit the area of questions, fine I would talk, if not screw them all.

I made that decision at the same time I decided that the image of the day wasn't bad. At not bad it got a few minutes of my time to try to improve it. A few of my standard manipulations and I put it in the file to save. I looked at the clock on the microwave. It was six PM, when I realized that I had wasted a whole day worrying about the state cops and the image that would likely never get used.

I made myself dinner, then sat at the computer until midnight. I checked out a few sites about the bike and batteries Then I watched the news from three different all news all day sites, finally I ended the day watching an old TV series which had aired on the SciFi network a few years before.

I fell into bed exhausted.

I developed three different negatives which I had shot but had not yet processed. One was a bust from the word go. The tools and the image of my singer were acceptable. Those I hung in the closet to dry. I stayed up reading on the net until I was totally exhausted. At that point I fell into bed and then into a restless sleep.

The next morning I got a call from Susan's receptionist. I drove over to Williamsport. I stopped first at Susan's office, then I went to the Seymore Group's office. I got kept waiting there, while Mary finished a client interview.

"I see you found the coffee pot. I was worried that you might have forgotten where it was." Mary was cheerful of which I approved.

"Oh lots of things I do forget these days, but where to find free coffee is etched on my brain. So what do you have for me."

"Mostly routine stuff, but I do have one that should be a challenge. He has been avoiding service for a month. I can't prove that he is selling off assets, but I would bet my next years salary that he is."

"Well be sure that I have all the information you have and I'll give it a shot."

"Oh, I have no doubt you will get a handle on it. After all you're my hero." she did grin to make it more of a joke. I left the office feeling good about Mary's mental health.

Most of the papers in Williamsport were simple. Without a previous attempt by a professional process server at his or her door, most cooperated with the Lightening Express Courier quite well. I had one dummy check type envelope which I waved around some of the time, and the old tube which could have contained plans that got waved around now and then as well. It was sign for the dummy package and get the court order instead. Reusing the same old packages over and over kept me from make a new dummy prop every time.

I stopped for a late lunch at a diner a few blocks from the office of the mooch who had been ducking service. I very carefully backed my old ford until it almost touched his Beemer. As I walked by his car toward the building, I gently rocked it. Of course,The car alarm went off. Lights flashed and the horn sounded every one around noticed.

"Hi," I said to the receptionist in the lobby. I think I have a problem. I bumped into a black BMW sedan outside. The parking space has the name Jarrell on it."

"Oh God, me Jarrell will have a fit. You stay right there, I do not want to take the blame for this." She made a call to someone presumably upstairs in Jarrell's office. It took about three or four minutes for the man in shirtsleeves to come rushing from the elevator.

"You might want my insurance information," I said handing him the envelope. He was steaming as he took the envelope from me. "By the way," I added. "You have just been served. See you in court." I tried to walk away, but the little fat man grabbed my arm.

"What the hell is this all about."

"It's about finally handing you the court order. I have your picture with it, by the way. I took it with this little key ring digital camera. It won't be a really good image, but it will do." Then I looked down at his hand on my arm. "Now take your fucking hand off me, or I'm going to break it." He removed his hand. "And have a nice day."

"You bastard," he called as I walked away.

"An accident of birth for me, you had to work it out all by yourself." I laughed as the receptionist giggled. I hoped that Jarrell couldn't fire her. I would hate for him to take all his frustration out on her.

I fought hard not to ram his BMW. I knew it would only cost me, so instead, I pulled carefully away. When I was far enough away to shoot an image of his car with the key ring camera, I stopped and made the picture. I made damn sure that he saw me documenting the lack of damage to his car.

I only had one service in Carthage and it was anti climatic. I just handed the paper to the owner of a beauty salon/spa. The woman was a bit of a redneck but she took the papers without an angry word. Her lawyer had told her to expect the papers and to accept them.

I made right at two hundred bucks for the half days work. It was enough to repay myself for the batteries I had ordered.

I made a picture of Molly for my one shot of the day. Molly was not the beauty or free spirit that Misty was, but she had some interesting mannerisms and cute expressions.

I met Mary for lunch three days later to pick up a couple of more papers to serve. "Is there some reason I can't hold these to do along with next week's batch?" I asked. It was my not to subtle way of asking if the second pickup was really necessary.

"Sure you can hold them, I just wanted to get them into your hands in case you were around the area, you could work them into your schedule as you see fit." She had obviously rehearsed the answer,

"Good, I always enjoy seeing you." I was surprised that it wasn't a lie.

"Good, we should do something fun sometime," she suggested.

"I was thinking about a picnic," I said laughing.

"I love picnics."

"How would you feel about sneaking into the park here some night at midnight for a picnic?"

Her laugh was unladylike, but genuine. "I think I would love that. You decide when and call me. Now I have to go play lawyer. I have court in a few minutes." When we got to the parking lot of Steve's Place, she kissed me quickly. She was gone before I could react.

My days fell back into a routine, even though the routine changed every few days, it was still a rut. A rut didn't have to be the same thing everyday of your life, like working on an assembly line, it could be choosing things from the same small list every day. I guess that is to say I wasn't all that upset when they came.

"Yes," I said. There were two of them standing on my stoop that Wednesday morning. Two guys in cheap suits usually meant cops, but then again I wasn't taking any chances. I kept the snubbie behind my leg as I opened the door.

Two badges, and I D cases magically appeared. "Mind if I hold one of those a minute?"

"Yes ,we do mind," The smaller of the two said as he put the badge away.

"Then get your ass off my porch and then get off my property. Unless I can verify that ID, you are not welcome here, therefore you are trespassing."

For a change I had thought to pick up my cell phone before I went to the door. I made a big deal of opening it and pressing 911. I held off pressing enter while they turned to each other. The larger man handed me his ID.

"Now what would the State Bureau of Investigation want with me?"

"We came to talk about your dead partner, but considering your attitude, maybe we should extend the investigation to include you." The little one said.

"Sonny, you need to work on your technique. Bullying some people just won't work." I pushed a number on the speed dial menu and the private phone, in the private office of Herbert Seymore rang.

"Mr. Seymore, I have two men at my door. They are allegedly from the SBI and they want to talk about Charlie, but are threatening to investigate me.

"Good to talk to you John, now why would they want to include you?"

"Something about not liking my attitude. I expect. What would you suggest I do?"

"I suggest you let me handle it, give the alph cop the phone please. By the way thanks for taking those papers. Mary seems like her old self again.

" Yes Sir of course. Give Mary my regards." I handed the phone to the smaller of the two.

"Hello (Pause) Agent Hopkins (Pause) Yes sir, we will call for an appointment (Pause)" He handed me the phone.

"We will be talking to you again."

"In a better mood, I hope." I said it closing the door in his face. I knew how pissed he was. I had the exact same thing done to me by a gambler ten years before. The phone was a wireless house phone not a cell, but it worked exactly the same.

The bike was on hold, I barely found time to shoot a picture a day that week. I made the time for a weekend trip to a reenactment in Tennessee. I invested in a wooden tripod to use with the old Polaroid camera just for that trip. I was giving serious thought to getting some period clothing and camping gear. I hadn't gotten into it quite enough to sleep on the ground. I was still sleeping in local motels when I met Jenny, not that it made any difference.

Jenny was a most remarkable women. She was part of the Tennessee re enactor group. She was played what could only be called a camp follower. One of the women who moved with the troops. In the real war they were probably old crones. Jenny was as far from that as I was from respectability.

I saw her first during the day at the encampment. She was frying corn bread cakes for the men to eat with their beans and bacon. She was attractive enough to be noticed and even remembered, but it was in the evening that she captured my heart and those of a lot more like me.

I got invited to join the social hour after the day's battle. The re enactors had built camp fires all around the old home place where the encampment was taking place. At one fire the number of men was easily ten times that of any other. At that campfire a woman's beautiful voice split the dark. Her voice seemed to make even the most tired of men sit up and take notice. She sang hymns in that beautiful southern accented voice. It made grown men cry, even though these men were in no danger of dying tomorrow. I could image the effect such a woman might have had on troops headed into battle the next day. That might have been what we were all feeling, even if we didn't really understand it.

I waited until the next day to approach her. "Ma'am my name is John Abba, I am a photographer."

"I know who you are Mr. Abba. People around here talk about the images on your web site. I even got to see the site this morning. The miracles of modern science. I would be drummed out of the camp followers and prostitute league, if anyone knew that I kept my fancy phone hidden in my petty coats."

"You might have read on the site that I make only one image a day. I would like today's image to be you."

"I would be most honored to be your image of the day."

"I shot her picture in her fancy lady of the manor dress, with a matching parasol. It was one damn fine picture. It was also the featured image on my web site from that day on.

I got back into Carthage late in the night on Sunday. I didn't even stop for food, instead I drove straight home. I wasn't happy to find the front door to my half of the duplex ajar. There was a business card taped to the door. It advised me to call the investigating officer. I went inside and found that the house had been tossed. There was no way for me to tell what was missing at that moment, so I went directly to bed. I did sleep with the pistol close at hand.

Repairing the door took a while the next day. I made my one image for the day of a hammer and carpenter's square laying on a saw horse. It was the only things I was expecting to see that day. After I finished with the door I got my shoe box rollodex out and called the animal shelter.

"Hey there, is Sam working today?" I had already returned the tranc pistol. I wanted to talk to Sam about something else.

"Abba, that was payment in full," he sounded concerned that I was going to be like a blackmailer.

"It was indeed, this is a favor you can do me."

"What?" he sounded a little concerned, buy also relieved.

"I'm looking for a puppy. A male that has not been fixed."

"If they come through the shelter, they have to be fixed you know that."

"Yes but do you know of any that are about to be weaned. I would like to get him before he gets to the shelter."

"Come on Abba, I work with these shelter dogs. We have plenty of them that need adoption."

"How about a litter that is headed to the shelter. It would save the country some money, if I got to the puppy first."

"Keep your cell phone on, this isn't really the best time of year, but I'll give you a call if I get one for you. If you can get there in time, you can pick one out."

"Fair enough, I owe you Sam."

"Not yet but you will," he laughed as he hung up the phone.

He did stay in that shower with his finger wrapped in a wadded up towel, until Louise returned my call. "We found the knife right where you said it would be. How did you know?"

"I must be psychic," I replied. I gave Robbie a choice, I could drop him at his car and he could put some miles between him and the cops, or I could take him to the ER.

I drove Robbie to the ER immediately after I offered him the option. Seemed that Robbie was near as tough as he thought. Not only wasn't he tough, I could tell he wanted to tell the doctor what had happened. He didn't want revenge himself he wanted someone else to make it all better. He decided against trying to roll over for the doctor since the staff of the ER all knew me, They brought me a cup of coffee while I stood outside the treatment room. I made sure Robbie knew I was there just in case he wanted to shoot his mouth off. All those donuts I had taken to the ER over the years paid off that afternoon.

Brett, one of the golden boys of homicide, showed up to take Robbie back into custody, and to take a statement. "Did you torture Robbie?" he asked after his interview with Robbie.

"Who me, I have never tortured anyone. We talked and he just got a case of remorse and told me where the knife had been thrown. He also told me why he had killed Charlie. Something about Charlie suggesting he might have better luck plying his trade in Williamsport. Robbie didn't take the advice well."

"So is he connected?"

"I certainly hope not, I would hate to have the mob on my ass." I did laugh because there was no way the mob authorized a hit on a cop for a penny ante deal like Robbie's.

"Well you know there are going to be a lot of questions about this."

"The knife is evidence of a crime. You came by it acting in good faith. If there is anyone in the barrel its me."

"I think the DA will refuse to prosecute, even if some cop finds evidence of a crime."

"There isn't any evidence anywhere. Not even in the grout in a fifty year old shower stall. We both knew that there was going to be a lot of melted plastic sheeting in an incinerator a very few minutes after I left the hospital.

"He probably has tape residue on his hands and legs," Brett suggested.

"Hey, I have no idea what kinds of kinky games he plays with his brother." I smiled again.

"Okay, you go take care of your house cleaning, before he makes his official statement."

"Right," I said that with a grin.

I realized at that moment that my life had become an action video game. Shit happened and I just reacted to it. If I reacted fast enough and in the right way, I could live on to play again. If I did it wrong, I would suffer some kind of penalty.

Good or bad everything I did as a civilian effected me personally. I couldn't hide behind the job any more. It was a realization I would have to think about at some point.

It was otherwise a quiet weekend. I drove around looking for that one great image. I settled for an image of the antique train depot in one of the neighboring towns. It have been saved by the local men's club. They had their meetings in it, so they hadn't whored it up yet. It still had the turn of the century rundown look about it.

On Sunday I worked on the image a while, then did even more research on batteries . I finally placed the order for 120 C cell Nimh batteries. They cost me over a hundred and fifty bucks but I had made that much delivering court orders, so I was still working on found money.

Since I had the summons business on my mind, I weight the Seymore offer. Mary Seymore was determined to repay me for the courthouse incident. No matter how many times I told her it wasn't necessary, she was still just as determined. I might as well go ahead and let her throw the firms business my way and be done with it. I was pretty sure it would take a big bite out of my time, but It wasn't like I had no free time available. I had plenty of free time with which to serve a few more summons. Besides I might need a good shyster any day now, being able to choose between two might be a good thing.

Susan's paralegal called me when there were court orders to be serviced. I picked them up at her office in Williamsport. So when she called on Monday morning, I called Mary Seymore, before I went to Susan's office. Mary and I arranged for me to pick up papers at her office on the same day as my pickup at Susan's office. Mary thought I might need to pick up twice a week at her office.

"We have a bit more volume than Sue," she informed me.

She did indeed have three times as many papers than Susan. Of course at least half of them were old papers that the other service company had not been able to serve. It took me almost all week but I got them all served. Some I had to chase down to put the paper in their hands but the reason was that they were prepared to dodge me. If I got first slice at the apple, that number would be very very small.

Mary had a paralegal prepare the new files for me, I was sure. No matter she insisted that I pick them up from her personally. She also decided that if she had business in Carthage around the time of my second pickup of the week, she would meet me to deliver them personally.

I went along with most anything. I really didn't like the drive to Williamsport. It didn't make much different what I liked, I didn't have much of a choice when most of the papers had to be served there.

To make my life easier I picked up a couple of magnetic signs for the car. I could slip on the Lightening Express Delivery Service sign when I delivered court orders. It would make it easy to mislead the recipient of the court order.

The next couple of days were equally boring. Actually nothing out of the ordinary happened until Friday afternoon. By that time I had a pretty good routine set up for days with no real work to be done. I walked in the morning. Checked my spam on the computer, then I fixed my late breakfast. Half the time it was cereal with milk I made from freeze dried milk powder. Big advance in powdered milk my ass. I mixed a little butter with it so that it was drinkable. In cereal it didn't really matter though. The rest of the time I microwaved an egg with cheese to put on a toasted bagel.

After breakfast I would setup to make one image. If the negative was usable I would scan and work it up for a poster. If it was not, I moved back to the computer to do research or just kill time watching old TV shows. Either way I played around various forums until bedtime. It was a pretty quiet existence and I was beginning to like it that way.

On Friday I was developing film when the knock on the door came. Since Charlie had been killed I kept the snubby .38 close, no matter what boring thing I was involved in. I picked it off the kitchen counter and slipped it into my pocket.

Since I had a negative half finished developing, I carried the film tank with me. It had to be constantly rotated. I didn't want to ruin it unless I had to shoot someone.

I saw Louise standing on my porch. I expected that she was alone since the spy hole was pretty good. "What do you want?" I asked as I opened the door.

"I came to talk to you about Charlie." She looked at me spinning the blacked out peanut butter jar then asked. "Exactly what the hell are you doing?"

"Developing a negative, come on in. I will be at a stopping point in a couple of minutes." She followed me into the kitchen where she remained quiet until the timer sounded and I emptied the developer. I filled the tank with water twice to dilute, and then wash away the chemicals. I left the single negative sitting in water while I turned my attention to Louise.

"So did you nail the thugs?"

"It don't look like they are connected, and there doesn't seem to be any physical evidence."

"Charlie had to have bled like a hog. Their was an artery cut according the M.E."

"These guys know how to clean up. There was the smell of bleach everywhere."

"How about the knife? I know it is a long shot but maybe they kept it."

"Surely they didn't keep a Walmart butcher knife. It was a one time only weapon."

"Nobody saw them around town that morning?"

"Not a soul as far as we can tell. Abba, I know it was them, but I don't think we can prove it."

"Have you talked to them?"

"Yes but these guys know their way around. They lawyered up before they got to the station. Made the call from home."

"Then water board them," I smiled.

"Are you kidding one of them had digital pictures of his body naked. He said it was to prove that he was unmarked. Like I said they done been to our little dance." Louise laughed at her own remark.

"Okay so why are you here?"

"Brett said you knew Charlie better than anyone. He wondered if you could point us toward his private papers."

"So you drew the short straw and had to come ask?" I knew it was BS, they were hoping I would do something that they couldn't

"Something like that I suppose," she admitted.

"Do you have anything you can hold them on?"

"For a day or two on a parole violation. Their lawyer can't spring them till Monday."

"Hold onto one and blow the other one out the door."

"You want me to call you when we turn him out?"

"No, I don't want to know. I'm not going to be involved in this in any way. You just have a better chance of turning the one in custody, if he things he is the only one going to fall for it all. Kick the strongest one out the door."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not going to do anything at all. He will crack they always do."

After Louise left I fixed the film, then I put it in to wash. While it washed, I called Officer Samuel Thompson. "Sam, John Abba, I'm calling in that favor you owe me." The favor was that Sam's son in law fell down two flights of stairs while being arrested for wife beating.

Sam's daughter refused to testify, as we all knew she would, but for the first time in their marriage they both went to the ER for treatment.

"I always knew it would happen, what is it you want John?"

"I need to borrow your tranc pistol. Fix me a dart for a bear to go with it."

"You know this ain't approved for people? A person might die."

"A person could die in the shower just as easily."

"True but I wouldn't have to lie, if they died in the shower."

"Okay, I'll tranc him in the shower, if you will feel better." Sam burst into laughter. A bear in the shower now that I would love to see.

The bad guys were brothers, did I mention that. Well the older one got kicked out the door so I just followed him until he was alone in a parking lot. I hit him with the tranc dart, then just waited while he called me six kinds of bastard and explained in great detail all that he was going to do to me, Since it was a short term tranc, I locked him in the trunk of my car after I duct taped his hands and feet.

When he came around he was in the shower stall of an abandoned chemical factory. I knew the place because me and Charlie once busted a mentally challenged young man there. He was living there and stealing from the local market to eat. We got him into a halfway house within a couple of days. So his time in county lockup was short.

"Who the fuck are you and what do you think you are doing?"

"I'm John Abba. Charlie was like family to me. You know about family don't you Robbie."

"Do you expect me to talk, just because you got me in this crummy shower?"

"Hell no Robbie, I expect you to die. I expect your brother to talk when he come to in the same shower with your chopped up body for company."

"You can't get away with this." He didn't sound all that sure of himself.

"You ain't from around here are you? Did you ever see that movie deliverance? Well we have a little different take on the law down here. You gonna be surprised what I can get away with. Actually you won't be surprised, because you'll be dead"

"You are just all talk," The words were pretty tough but his voice cracked.

"Well I'm not in a hurry, I have all night. Hell I have a big chunk of tomorrow as well. Of course you might not, since I'm gonna be taking souvenirs off your body to send to your friends up north. Just so they know to stay home. But I am a nice guy, so I'm going to let you choose. Which finger do feel you could do without the best?


His eyes danced but he couldn't seem to get the words out. "Well, I', thinking pinky finger. I know you wear a pinky ring but otherwise it is probably the least used." Robbie was duct taped so he couldn't really put up any real resistance. I used a pair of pruning clippers. His pinky finger wasn't as large as some bush limbs I had cut with the clippers.

"Since there is going to be a lot of blood, I have this little plastic apron." I said it as I reached for his finger. He thought he was a tough guy until I clamped down on this finger. I was ready to take it off, hell I was ready to do just what I said. Let him die and then question his brother in the same place.


I made a half cut of the finger. Lots of blood and pain but no permanent damage. I would have taken it all but he began to cry and talk between the tears. I called Brett with the location of the knife's dump site before I kicked Robbie loose. Yeah sure he would be after me, if he stayed in town. I think I convinced him to move back where the weather wasn't quite so warm.

The again he might well be on death row in central prison while he dreamed of killing me.

After dinner I developed the negative and then scanned it into the computer. I worked late into the evening to make it look like a 1900 glamour portrait. With her long hair and classic good looks there was very little required except to make it look old. Misty's good looks took care of the glamour part quite well.

I did my walk a little later than usual, since the weather was a little cooler than it had been during the summer. Fall was approaching like it or not. It looked as though a lot of the regular walkers had decided to hold off a bit as well. There were plenty of familiar faces on the trail, even at 9AM.

I had time after the walk for a shower and two cups of coffee before I left for the Sanitary Cafe. It was Carthage's answer to a Baltimore style dinner. It came complete with a front that look like a vintage travel trailer. All the rest was vintage cinder block and drywall construction. A real esthetic nightmare on Main Street. Carthage had it's share of Yuppie wannabe's, so a couple of places like the Sanitary did pretty well. If there had been more than a couple, they all would have gone under I expect.

Since I arrived first, I waited in the foyer for Mary. The wait wasn't all that long, but it was all that boring. I do hate to be bored. To paraphrase a line by Clint Eastwood from Heartbreak Ridge, you can kick me, you can kill me, just don't bore me. It's how I felt about life. I can handle pain, and I will have no choice but to handle death, but I do not handle boredom well at all.

"Sorry John, but the traffic is getting worse on the corridor every day." By that she meant the four lane round between Carthage and Williamsport. Carthage had become a bedroom community for the larger Williamsport. The morning and afternoon traffic had been terrible for years, but midday traffic had started to grow as well. My guess was that evening shopper traffic would be just as bad as rush hour soon. Since I almost never left Carthage, it didn't make much difference to me.

I nodded as I stood to lead the way to the spot where a hostess met us. She asked how many in the party, even though it was obvious there were two of us. The table she found for us was way too small for me to manage. "Excuse me, I can't eat on a table this small, do you have something larger." I should have gone to places like that more often, if I had I'm sure they would have known better.

"Sir this is our standard table for two," The stupid hostess was going to argue with a customer about a table.

"In that case I think we will go to a different restaurant for lunch." I turned to walk away.

"Sir, would you mind waiting a moment."

"Actually we would," Mary said. "I do not know what your company policy is, but where I come from the staff doesn't argue with the customers."

"I was damn proud of you back there," I said once we were in the parking lot.

"Damn, I always wanted to raise hell in a restaurant."

"So was it good for you, it was good for me." I laughed at my own stupid joke.

"It was simply wonderful my dear," she said with a exaggerated southern lady drawl. "So what greasy diner do you have in mind now?"

"Willie will still be serving breakfast." I said that as I held the door to her car open. "Just follow me."

At Willie's dinner we were met at the door by a trailer trash teenager who handed us each a greasy menu. I think they had the grease spots printed on the menu because I had never seen one without it.

Once we were seated and had placed our order I asked, "So what can I do for you today?"

"Daddy and I want you to joint the firm." She said it looking right in my eyes.

"Mary, I am flattered of course, but I want to keep my freedom for a while longer."

"I told daddy you would say that. So this is our fallback position. Would you work for us now and then on special projects?"

"I have no objections to helping you out as long as the help doesn't require me to use my connections with the Carthage Police."

"Fair enough," she said with a smile. "Now let's see if I can do these eggs justice,"

"Well I certainly hope so, Willie's breakfast special is know by every cop, truck driver and paramedic in the country."

"An ER room nurse or two as well, I'm sure."

On the way out she just had to press one more time. After all she was a lawyer. "Would you consider serving papers for us. You know like you do for Susan."

"I'll give it some thought I promise."

"We will gladly match Susan's contract price. I understand that it is temporary, so if it changes, we can probably live with that as well."

"I'll give it some thought but I will promise you this, If I take on any new clients, it will first be you guys."

"I couldn't ask for a better answer on such short notice. Please call us anytime you make a decision."

I stopped by the office depot on the way home. I had Misty's picture made, and it was just as good as I had hoped it would be. I had several copies of it made into poster size prints. Also some postcard size prints made as well.

During the afternoon I gave thought to the Seymore group. I also gave some more thought to finishing the bicycle. About all that was required was to bolt the motor on and decide what I should do about a battery.

After a dinner of peanut butter and crackers, I watched an old sci-fi network TV show. It wasn't a very exciting day.

I made the scan on a scanner fitted with a backlit cover. It was another piece of junk bought used on ebay. After I had a digital file, I drove it a couple of miles to the office depot. Their high quality laser printer made a nice black and white image. I had the girl put it on glossy paper and on card stock. I wanted to see how it did on each. I finally had one 11x17 mini poster printed on a thick card stock with a glossy surface. It looked better than most of the posters I saw around. It was as good as a photograph in some ways. Well for sure it was better than a photo for cost.

I was in the parking lot of the office depot, when the cell phone rang. I fumbled for it while putting the bag of printing into back seat of my car. "Hello," I said into the tiny piece of plastic.

"Hello John, it's Mary Seymore." She sounded tentative as if not sure whether I would hang up on her. She probably thought that I might say or do something equally rude.

"Hello Mary, how have you been?" I tried to make my voice sound positive and cheerful. I had no idea what her mental state was at the time.

"Just fine John, I'm going to be in your part of the world tomorrow, how about we have lunch?" I had no idea what lunch meant to Mary Seymore, but it didn't freight en me.

"Sure Mary, lunch it is." We said goodbye after arranging to meet at a local diner at 11am. I think she had a long lunch in mind. Since I didn't have any other plans, it sounded good to me. After the call I got into my car and drove home.

"Hey, wanna' see something cool?" I asked that of Misty who was standing by her car in the drive.

"Sure, what do you have?" I showed her the mini poster without saying a word. "God I love that. it's so you. I mean you are always on the track and you are a real slob Mr. Abba. No offense intended."

"If you like the poster, I can't get upset because you tell the truth. If you can sit still long enough, I'd love to re shoot you using the antique camera, The one I used to shoot this poster. It makes a different kind of image than the 35mm camera I used last time.

"Of course do you want to do it now?"

"Anytime at all would be fine. If Molly is home and would like to join in, that would also be nice."

"Molly is having dinner with her family tonight. She will probably spend the night at home. She usually goes right from the house of horror to school the next day."

"Ah and why is it the house of horror?" I asked. I could just tell she was dying to explain.

"Her dad is in denial. He still expects grandchildren any day now, if you get my meaning."

"Yeah, I think I get it. But why is that so bad, why not just set them straight once and for all or just play along."

"Molly does, play along that is. It always makes her crazy when she comes home though."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not involved in that on either side. I can see how it is hell of the parents and hell for you two as well. Some problems just don't and any easy answers." I suggested

"Nor hard ones either it seems," Misty added.

"Just to change the subject, since we are both alone for dinner, how about I grill a couple of those fancy hamburgers from the real butcher shop."

"Can we wrap up some veggies in aluminum foil and grill those as well."

"Sure, but only if you have any. All I have is lettuce and that doesn't grill well."

"Corn on the cob and carrots here," she suggested.

"I probably have an onion to add to the mix."

There was enough light in the yard to make a photo of her all curled up on the folding lounge. She faked sleep for me with an innocent little smile, which I knew would not sit well with the gods who watch over photographers. That smile was totally out of character for Misty so I had manufactured the image not captured it.

I expected to see Brett and Louise but just not quite so soon. They were at my door not an hour after I left the Captain's office.

"Why the hell didn't you come to us?" Louise asked in an angry voice. Louise was about thirty pounds overweight, so could appear over bearing. That and the fact that she tended to get right up in your face when she was angry.

"You better back the fuck off bitch, or I will clean your clock. You might be a cop, but you are on my turf now. This ain't business it's personal you can't hide behind that fucking badge."

She took a step back and tried to lower the temperature in the room Brett spoke next. "Abba me and you go back a ways, not so far as you and Charlie, but a ways, why did you go to the Captain? It made it look like you didn't trust us."

"That's because I don't trust you politic playing partner. I tried to tell your bitch partner that Charlie's personal life might be the motive, but she went into protect the department politics mode. She is obviously an ambitious bitch. She wasn't going to look at anything but his old cases. Most of those cases, I worked on as well as Charlie. I would have heard something, if some punkass from the old days was after us. It just don't play that way."

"So how did you find these guys?" he asked.

"Just like I told the captain, Charlie asked if I had ever heard of them. I figured he was looking for some dirt on them for a reason. Probably something to do with the paid favors Charlie did for the fringe people.

"Fringe people?" Louise asked. She was fuming, but fighting it so that she could get back in the conversation.

"People whose activities are on the line, not quite illegal but damn close. Charlie was their go to guy. In and of itself nothing he did for them was illegal, it was just misuse of his badge. It was more a procedural thing than a real violation. That's how he rationalized it."

"So you think it was one of those things gone bad. These two found out he was checking on them and braced him?"

"No I think they were making their bones in the wrong place. More than likely they were moving into the extortion business, and Charlie was in the way."

"Could be?"

"Do you think they are connected?" Louise asked.

"They could be, or they might be just be wannabes. Either way I expect you will find some solid connection to Charlie, if you look hard enough. But dear god Brett make sure they actually are the right ones, who knows how many people Charlie pissed off with his favors."

There were more things said, but none of it was worthy of being remembered. They didn't question my lie. I hadn't expected them to do so. It was a well built lie, one that should pass even the deepest scrutiny.

After they left I decided to make an image with my big camera. I needed the practice. I sat a pair of old running shoes on the rail of my rear deck. I tool my time and was sure I had it the way I wanted. Only after I was sure did I go into the house to load the film. I sat at the kitchen table, where I loaded the homemade cardboard film holder into the homemade black bag. I also slipped the box of 4x5 film inside, followed by the trimming jig and scissors.

Once I put my hands inside the bag it was totally light proof. I trimmed the film sheet, then loaded it into the cardboard holder. I removed it and my hands from the bag but only after I had closed the film box to be sure that it was light tight.

I loaded the camera at the kitchen table, then removed the dark slide. Once I had the back of the camera shut it was ready to shoot. I went outside, where I carefully measured the light and guessed the distance from camera to shoes. After all that preparation shooting the picture was anti climactic.

When it was all done, I returned to the kitchen table where I slipped the camera into the dark bag along with my blacked out peanut butter jar. Moving the film from the camera and holder to the jar was simple.

Developing the film was also simple but a little time consuming. After all the steps involved and about thirty minutes later the negative was ready for viewing. I was surprised by how good it looked. Instead of the tiny little negatives from a 35mm camera, which one can not really get a feel for, the negative from the old Polaroid camera was exactly like a small photograph. I could see all the detail but in reverse. I couldn't wait to scan it.

However I had to keep Lois out of it. She would never testify, so I had to lie my ass off. Now telling a successful lie is like building a house. First you have to have a plan. One that considers most of the things that will come up in construction, then you need a good foundation.

I came to that conclusion while walking the next morning. I made my plan and an hour after my walk, I started to lay the foundation. "Edith I'm so sorry about Charlie. We will miss him." I said that to the grieving widow in the small and super clean living room of Charlie's home.

"Thank you John. You were Charlie's best and maybe only true friend." Edith obviously had been crying and was on the verge of starting again. She sure as hell didn't need to know about Lois.

"Edith I need a favor. I have a lead that I want to pass on to the officers investigating Charlie's murder, but I can't give up the source. I need you to tell the officers, should they ask, that Charlie left the house Sunday around ten to get a bite to eat. I'll take care of the rest. Would you do that for me?"

"Like I said Abba, you were Charlie's friend and I'm a cops wife. I'll tell the lie and swear to it on a dozen bibles. I do not have a problem framing a guilty man, as long as the right man is the one you convict of this."

"I will make damn sure it is the right one, that I promise."

"Then Charlie went out on Sunday night for a bite to eat. Where I don't know."

"Exactly," I replied. "He got home before midnight."

"How did you know?" she asked with a conspirators smile.

After I left Charlie's small frame house, I went to see Francis. "Francis," I said through the front door.

"Well come in John the kids are at school."

"I can't, I have a chore to do. I just needed to ask if you remember Charlie talking to me at the Waffle and Egg Sunday night." I looked at her hard.

"I heard about poor Charlie, you bet your ass I remember. I can't say what time he left, but you and I left when the night cook came, so it must have been around eleven."

"Yes that's how I remember it to. I'll give you a call," I said as I walked away.

I stopped for a late breakfast/ early lunch before I went to the police station. Once there I passed the detective division office and went straight to the office of the Chief of D's. "Hello Amy, how come you get younger and I get older every time I come in."

"Because you are a terrible liar," she said with a smile. "He is in a meeting."

"Buzz him anyway. Tell him I have a lead on Charlie's murder, and if he doesn't come out I'm just gonna go shoot the bastard." I said it as I grinned.

"Captain you might want to come out and see John Abba. He says he has a lead on Charlie's murder." She listened a minute then added. "Captain, if Abba thought it was worth coming in for, I would take it seriously." Everybody knew Amy was the brains in that office.

The door opened and the head of the personnel office walked out. "Come on in John," he suggested.

"No thanks," I replied. I took a page from an old notepad and handed it to him. "I ran into Charlie Sunday night at the Waffle and Egg on main. He told me he was talking to these too Mooches. He asked if I had ever heard of them or if they were connected. I told him, and I'm telling you, I never heard the names.They were the last hard guys Charlie had words with as far as I know. I would take a look at them.

"Why not take this to Louise or Brett?"

"So you teamed Brett up with the FNG. That has to be a match made in hell. You pass the information along it will sound better coming from you."

"Thanks Abba, I'll let you know how it turns out."

"Good, because I don't want this to just get lost for any reason."

"What does that mean?"

"It means if these guys are connected and you flip them, they better not get a walk on Charlie. If they do I'm gonna have a press conference on the steps of city hall."

"You ain't a cop no more."

"No but I still have some newswhore friends."

Everybody has heard the 48hour rule in investigations. Do it in two days or most likely it becomes a whodunit so the odds on it getting solved get longer and longer. It is even more true that get a lead in 24 or you have a long hard road.

The more information you have the easier it is to get that first lead. At the moment every cop working the case knew that information of any kind was important, but most also knew they wouldn't want anyone looking at their personal lives too closely. Every cop worth a damn has some larceny in his heart. Charlie was no exception.

I had been Charlie's longest partner because I knew how to turn a blind eye to things. I had been around long enough by the time I hooked up with Charlie to know a grass eater from a meat eater. A grass eater would take a buck, if you threw it at him. He was usually no danger to himself or the department. The man doing the offering was guilty of something, so there was almost never a report on the officer. A meat eater was a different story. He went looking for bribes. One day all meat eaters get caught. Yes they make a lot of money on the side and may get away with it for years, but they all get caught in the end.

Charlie had been a grass eater as far as I knew. Since he knew I wanted no part of it and didn't want to know about it, he could have become a meat eater without me knowing. I didn't know what he was into at the time of my retirement, but I knew where he went to get laid. No cop could afford Lois's house and keep his family fed. Charlie managed it.

I drove the Ford over to Lois's house. It was dinner time, but the house was never really closed. I parked in the driveway even though there was a small discrete sign forbidding it. the whole back yard of Lois's was a parking lot. There was a twelve foot redwood fence around the back yard for privacy.

From having dropped Charlie at the house a few times, I knew that the gate to the rear parking area had a guard. One who had been a guest of the state on more than one occasion. Lois hired only hard men to work for her.

I left the car and walked directly to the front door. No one used the front door except delivery people, and the occasional Jehovah's Witness salesman. Cops working cases used it though. They usually didn't want to know whose car was parked out back.

With all the cheap hookers on the street, why would anyone go to a house, you ask? Security is the simple answer. You didn't get rolled at Lois's. The girls went to the doctor once a week for a blood test, and none of them were screwing low lifes on the side. In other words your odds were better with Lois. Not to many carriers of disease could afford Lois's rates.

I used my cop knock on the door with the results I expected. A big black man about a hundred pounds heavier than me, and all it muscle opened the door.

"Whatever you sellin' we don't want none," he said trying to close the door. A good way to get your foot broken is to put it in the crack of the door. It is much better to throw all your weight on it while he still had just his one hand on it. That's what I did, and for good measure I pulled the South American .38 revolver. Before he realized it he had the snubby up his nose.

"But you didn't give me a chance to demonstrate what I have to sell. Do you want to see it now." He just looked mean, not a bit scared, but he also did try me either.

"Abba, if you kill him you are going to have to dispose of the body, and take his place," the female voice came from the stairs to my left.

"That's why he ain't dead already." I said quietly.

"Eddie, you go on back to the kitchen and watch the gate. Abba is a man in pain, he would probably like to kill someone just now, and I just had the carpets cleaned."

"Lois we need to talk," I said it as Eddie walked away.

"Put the piece away and we will talk."

I holstered the cheap Smith and Wesson know off as I followed her into the empty parlor. At this time of day it was appointment only. "So who iced Charlie?" I asked.

"You know I'm no snitch," she said.

"And I'm no cop," I replied.

"Abba, Charlie wasn't a really bad cop. He just did favors that he charged for," she suggested.

"Like?"

"If somebody tried to make trouble for me, he had a talk with them that's all."

"Did he have a talk with anyone recently?"

"Several of his friends were having a problem with some new guys from up north. They wanted to sell us protection."

"Protection from what? Fire and theft insurance kind of protection?" I knew better.

"More like broken bones, and life insurance."

"And Charlie had a talk with them?"

"He was just supposed to find out, if they were connected. If not, I could get a dozen guys badder than them. I just didn't want a war none of us did. You know Charlie, always a cowboy. Most likely he went to see them."

"And are they connected?"

"Don't know, Charlie never got back to me. I figure he rattled their cage and the pushed back."

"Give me some name and a place to find them."

She scribbled for a minute or so then I left. She didn't even offer me a cup of coffee.

I had two choices give the names to Louise or go kill them both. Since Charlie didn't seem to have done anything that we couldn't cover up, it was an easy choice.

After my walk on the second day back, I developed the negative from the reenactment. I had to really work hard in the computer to make a decent image, but when I finished the image looked as though it were over a hundred years old. I liked it very much, so I got it ready for the laser printer at the Office Depot. I made it first into single sided post cards, then I set it up so that each page of card stock would print four postcards.
I setup a different page at two images to a sheet in order top make folding note cards. I planned to pick up some gold seals to hold them closed during their time in the mail. The file was large enough for me to set up an eleven by seventeen mini poster as well.

I put the files onto a thumb drive then moved on to other things. The first other thing was an old TV series that last only one season. I had never seen it, so it was kind of interesting in an off beat way. Most series that fail on TV aren't bad, they just can't find enough people who enjoy the particular point of view of the series. I was finding that I was pretty off beat myself because I liked a lot of them.

Still, two hours of it was all I could stand. After that I banged around reading about batteries where ever I could. I almost talked myself into buying some exotic batteries to build my own battery pack, but I read the notes of a man trying the same thing. His results were all over the place, so I decided to hold off. I really didn't need the bike for anything. It was just a fun project nothing more.

I spent a couple of hours working in the yard after lunch. Molly came home, I guessed for lunch. I expected grief about Francis from her as well . I hadn't seen her the day before, so she missed her chance then. To my surprise she just said, "hi," then sort of turned away. She looked preoccupied. I was just as glad that she was. I sat on the deck drinking a diet cola, while enjoying the smell of fresh cut grass. Pollen be damned, I thought, as my nose began to itch. It was still a pleasant way to spend the afternoon regardless.

I should have known that it wouldn't last. The ringing cell phone just could not be ignored. "Hello," I said into it. I could have checked the caller first but I didn't bother.


"Abba, this is Louise Moss. I got some bad news for you."

I waited but she didn't give it up. I knew that it was real bad. "Well spit it out Louise, it ain't gonna get no easier."

"Charlie got cut and beat up this morning. Abba he is dead." She paused a minute then went on. "I didn't want you to see it on the news."

"So what happened?" It hadn't really sunk in. It was more an exercise in curiosity than grief at that point.

"We don't know yet. It looks like he met someone in a parking lot. You know that back city lot on Commerce street. One of the patrol cops went by to drop off some paper at his car. He found him laying between two cars. He had already bled out. Coroner's report hasn't worked it's way down to me. The captain is funneling things through his office."

"Just so you know Louise, Charlie wasn't as clean as he looked. You might want to look into his personal life. This may not be job related."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Louise asked defensively. She was trying to defend her partner and fellow cop. She was angry and not in the mood to hear what I had to say.

"When you calm down, give some thought to what I just said."

"They said you were a mean arrogant bastard Abba. They also said that the department was better off without you, but I didn't believe them."

"If you don't now, you will." She didn't know what I knew or she might have kept her mouth shut. At lease until she had the facts. I didn't have them all, but I would pretty damn soon. She slammed the phone down. Well I didn't see her but I sure as hell felt it.

When I awoke on Monday morning, Francis had gone and I was happy about it. Francis was a fine person, and she was great to sleep with, but not someone I wanted around all the time. She and I had spent a few days together after my divorce, so I knew what I was talking about.

I took my morning walk, even though I was tired. Yes Francis could wear any man out. Hell she might be able to wear out a complete college basketball team. Well at least the starters.

The walk was pretty uneventful to be sure. I mean, I saw a lot of the regulars and I said good morning to them. I even spoke to a few people, who I had never seen before. Since there was nothing on the trail to occupy my mind, it roamed between the bike motor and battery issue, and then swung a totally different direction to Francis of course. I smiled a lot since both were at least qualified success stories.

"What the hell were you doing last night and do I need to call the police?" Misty asked it with a grin. She was standing in the front yard of the condo. She was obviously dressed for school. She was wearing navy blue utility garb. It was the standard police uniform for rough areas or dirty duty.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I replied smiling.

"You were gone all weekend and then we hear what sounded like someone being murdered in your apartment. Molly had to go out to make sure your car was in the drive. We saw your car and a strange one parked behind it. It took a while for us to realize it was a woman and she wasn't in pain." Her smile was huge. "She wasn't in pain was she?" I shook my head. "Pity, If she is going to be a regular we might have to move. We do need our sleep you know, or you could invite us to watch. We could brings some friends and sell tickets."

"As could I dear, and I would make a hell of a lot more money." It was my turn for the wicked grin.

"Alright, but if that woman comes back I want to meet her. One of you has a secret I need to know."

"No secret she just has a low pleasure threshold."

"Right, modest as always," she replied. I just smiled.

Misty had caught me coming home from the walk, so she got in her car and drove away. I went into the house to drink more strong coffee, while I searched the web for battery information. From the same bicycle forum, where I learned about the homemade ebike, I found instruction for the construction of a Nimh battery pack. The cost was only 25% more than buying the much heavier lead acid batteries. I did even more research on ebay, then I placed the order even though delivery would be several weeks.

I was torn between the one project for which I had all the components and just taking the day off to sleep and watch TV on line. Since I hadn't slept well the last two nights, for very different reasons, sleep and TV on line won. It was a totally wasted day and I loved it.

I spent the day at the lectures and the reenactment of some obscure civil war battle. It was a lot more fun than it sounded. I wandered through the encampment looking through my camera but not shooting anything. I knew the frustration of the old time photographers who couldn't waste shots. It cost them a lot of time and money. Come to think of it the same was true for me. There was a lot of time money and inconvenience with each shot. So each shot had to mean something. No, I didn't have the same hassles as the old time photographers but I had enough to get a healthy respect for them.

I knew for a fact that when I got home, I would be looking for a camera backpack. I would also be making more cardboard film holders. I wanted to shoot more than three exposures so I planned to make at least a half dozen more film holders.

I hung around and helped out where I could until the camp was struck, then I said my goodbyes and left. I had to give my email to several people before I could get away. I figured it couldn't hurt, email was free and easy to delete.

The drive home was uneventful until I got back into town, I stopped at the local all night breakfast cafe for eggs, even though it was only ten PM. I liked eggs and sausage before bedtime. I was splurging on my calories for the weekend. Come Monday it would be back to the semi starving routine.

"Abba, I thought maybe you really were dead. I haven't seen you in months." The voice belonged to the red headed waitress name Francis."

"I've had a rough month Francis."

"Yeah I heard," she replied.

"Oh how is that?"

"Cops talk, you know that. For some reason they thought I would be interested."

"Well, they must be the ones who listen to rumors," I suggested.

"Yeah, I suppose so. So what you having? the big man special?"

"Not tonight, I think just one egg scrambled soft, one patty of sausage and one piece of toast."

"You still drink coffee don't you?" She seemed to take it personal that I was eating about a third what I would have before the heart attack.

"Yeah, black."

"Good, I thought maybe they had taken your balls in that hospital."

"I'd rather be dead than drink decaf." I said that smiling at her.

I was about halfway into my eggs when Francis said, "Abba, the kids are with my ex. I get off in about a half hour. You want me to swing by your place for a visit?"

I had to scramble for an answer. I told myself that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I wondered it that was really true or if on some level I had decided on the Waffle and Egg at that time of night, on the off chance Francis might be working. I decided that I probably had thought it on a level maybe a little high up that subconscious. "That's an idea. I can put on some decent coffee. This stuff is awful."

"I know your coffee, I'll bring a couple cups of coffee from here." She smiled showing her not so white teeth. That was true of almost everything about Francis. She was a natural redhead, but it had been toned down by the mixture of gray in her hair. She had large breast once, but time had deflated them a great deal. Francis was almost a beauty, but instead she was mildly attractive in a worn down kind of way.

"Fair enough, by the way I don't live where I did last time you came by to visit."

"Then hang around and I'll follow you. I need to move my car anyway. You can never tell someone may come looking for me."

I finished the eggs and two more cups of bad coffee while I remembered how I had met Francis. It seemed that my whole life revolved around the job. Most of my friends and acquaintances came from the job somehow.

I met Francis at the Waffle and Egg. She was a waitress then just as she was at the moment. The big difference was that when I met her five years before she had just left her husband. We laughed for a few weeks before she followed me home the first time. Even then it probably wouldn't have happened, if I hadn't got the domestic disturbance call at her home. When I got there she and her ex were going at it pretty good. She had a couple of bruises but he had just as many. Francis was no shrinking violet.

I split them up once my backup arrived. The female officer took Francis off to the side while I talked to her husband. "Matt listen to me. You don't want to be hitting on Francis. If keep it up someone is going to the hospital and someone is going to jail."

"Officer Abba, I swear she hit me first."

"That maybe true but she weighs about 135 lbs I would say, and you would go about 200, When it gets to the judge, he is gonna laugh his ass off. And you are going to do some serious time. Now you know some of these judges eat at the waffle and egg. They probably all know her, and have no idea who or what you are. If she gets your ass in court, you are going to jail. Next time you better leave when she looks like she wants to start getting physical."

"Yeah, I guess you are right."

"She doesn't want to press charges," the backup officer said.

"Fair enough, Matt you need to get the hell out of here."

The next time I saw Francis at the Waffle and Egg she invited herself over after work. I can say this about that encounter, I know why Matt accepted the bruises. Francis was a very physical lover. She got right into it, on every lever. She was unintentionally violent in some ways. It was exciting to say the least.

I got back home about three in the afternoon with the completed motor assembly in hand. Eddie welded a piece of angle over the cut end of the frame. He did grind the ends down evenly before he made the weld. He also suggested, since there was likely to be a lot of vibration, that I drill the corners and install a bolt in addition to the weld.

Installing the motor was simple, once I read the very detailed directions from the master bike builder on one of the motorized bicycle forums. Since I had managed to keep all the components wired together during their removal, again thanks to Internet instructions, I didn't have a problem installing all the electrical components.

The prediction was that the batteries would not hold a change and that also proved to be true. I got them to hold up long enough to test ride the bike about half a mile. I found that even at 24v it was great fun to ride the light vehicle at even 12 miles an hour. Down hill the bike did considerably more but on a level roadway, it was about 10 to 15 mph. Going up hill the speed fell off significantly.

With the batteries dead and the light failing, I called it a night. I was very pleased with myself when I went to bed that night. I felt that I had accomplished something. I didn't often have that feeling, so I tried to enjoy it while I could.

I walked the next morning even though I wanted to work on the bike more than I wanted to walk. On the trail my mind was always clear. Probably because I walked first thing in the morning. I made a huge effort to be sure everything was taken care of before the end of day. I usually had nothing hanging over me, so I was clear headed during my walk. That morning I had the bike thing rolling around in my mind. Not only was I thinking about how to get a battery, I was also thinking about how I could best use the bike in either my business or as another hobby. I didn't kid myself, once all this 'putting things together' phase ended, I would be bored to tears. That most likely would come sooner than later.

After the walk I started checking out batteries and how to handle them. I really couldn't get a handle on it, so I decided not to decide. I changed gears again, I spent the remainder of the morning reading about a reenactment in Virginia. I had in mind that I might want to just take off and go to it. I didn't have any plans for the weekend, and after all it was Friday. The reenactment was a good 200 miles away. It was way too far for me to drive up and back in the same day. Well, it was if I wanted to see any of the events. There would be lectures and battle reenactments during the day. Campfires at night with singing and a telling of the oral history. Most of the events seemed to be kind of interesting, so I wanted to be there for it all.

Since the encampment was two days, I needed to find a motel in the area. The closest one appeared to be thirty miles away. I expected to be able to just drive up and find a room. If not at that motel, then maybe somewhere else in the area.

When I arrived at the bivouac area the next morning, I opened the big camera and just walked around looking. I didn't actually make a picture. As I expected I was able to strike up a conversation with the re enactors. Most of the men hanging around the tents were staying in the bivouac over night. A few had brought their wives, some of whom were staying at a motel nearby. One or two had trailers in a campground not too far away. Most of the campers at the campground belonged to the sutlers. The sutlers were men who sold authentic and reproduction items to the re enactors.

There were a few vendors who sold items to the visitors, but not many. The ones who did were selling in a kind of craft fair atmosphere well outside the bivouac area. Some of the vendors had a kind of pseudo historic element in their merchandise, but most just sold junk souvenirs.

I left around noon to find a sandwich and a motel room. The motel was full and to my surprise there was nothing close. It looked like an hour's drive to a motel. That realization did nothing to help my mood.

When I returned to the bivouac area I set up the camera and black bag. I shot one image of the area from a spot that gave me kind of an overall view. I hoped it would look like a period photograph when I finished with it.

After I emptied the camera I walked around inside the small tent city. I spoke to several people hoping someone knew where I could find something closer than the motel fifty miles away. I tried speaking to a circle of women who were doing needlepoint. Needlepoint was a big hit with southern ladies around the time of the civil war.

"Did you try the ranger station?" a chubby little lady asked.

"No, do they have information about motels there?"

"Probably, but I was thinking more of the cabins. They might be able to hook you up with something."

So I went to the rangers station before the I went to dinner. I didn't mind missing the dinner at the bivouac. I might have been able to scrounge a bowl of beans, since I was becoming a fixture already. I didn't really care for beans cooked over an open fire. I had never had them, but for some reason a bowl of beans with a hunk of fat meat just didn't appeal to me like a steak and salad.

"Sorry Mr Abba, but all the cabins are full. Lot's of people just sleep under the shelter this time of year. We don't really allow it, but we look the other way for the reenactment weekend. Most of the re enactors stay in the bivouac, Some of them don't have period camping gear, so they just throw a blanket down where ever they can. We guide them to the shelters to keep them dry and safe. I'm sure they wouldn't mind sharing a spot with you."

And that's how I ended up sleeping on a blanket borrowed from the Virginia Emergency Management office. Hey being an old time cop, I knew where to find stuff. I didn't feel too bad, since it wasn't much of a blanket. Sleeping on the concrete floor taught me one thing at least. I sure as hell didn't want to do it again.

I spent that evening learning what I could about hurricane tie down straps. I was pretty sure that Mike's delivery man wasn't going to tie it down for me.

After reading about Quonset huts, which is what the half pipe really was, I leaned a lot about how they performed in the wind. The military had chosen that particular design for a reason. Yes mostly for the ease of construction, but also for it's stability.

Without end walls the winds passed right through them or rolled right over them. It made them ideal for airplane hangers and the temporary storage of materials. The metal ones were a lot heavier than my fiberglass half pipe, but the wind characteristic would be the same. If I tied it down , so that it didn't float easily, the darn thing should stay in place even in a pretty heavy wind gust. A floor tied to the sides of the half pipe, would give it the weight I needed, but I didn't want to go through the expense and trouble to build a floor.

I decided to use the built in hurricane straps. I wasn't sure how they were attached but I had an idea that if the home and garden center found them acceptable I would as well. The easiest way to tie them to the ground was with special anchors, like those used for mobile home installation. That would require an auger to twist the anchor into the ground. I wasn't quite ready for that. What I chose instead was a large dog tie down stake. It had the long metal rod with a couple of wings on it to keep it from twisting. I decided that once the earth filled in the drive holes the wings would help hold down the storage shed. Those stakes I could be driven in with a four pound sledge hammer. I could always use one of those later as well.

The shell got delivered at 8AM. I guess landscapers and home owners started yard work early to avoid the heat. The driver and I easily carried the shell to a fairly flat spot in the yard. The yard had a gentle slope away from the house so there would be natural drainage for the floor. Once the grass died, I would have to look for something to cover the earth. Just to keep the mud down in the rain.

The half pipe was only eight feet high in the very center. I could stand straight only for a couple of feet on either side of dead center. Otherwise, I had to crouch and bend to move around inside. The edge spaces would work for the lawn mower, tool boxes, and even some scrap lumber. It looked as though with a few inexpensive additions, I would be able to use the shed quite well.

I drove to the home depot and bought four tie down stakes, a 4lb sledge hammer, and two ten by ten reinforced plastic tarps. The half pipe was gray but the tarps that size were blue. It was going to look a like the civil war in my back yard but I didn't mind all that much. I had never been big on how things look. I also picked up a hand full of 1/4" nuts, bolts, and washers as I passed by the bins. As an after thought I picked up a few prepackaged wing nuts as well.

Back at home I drilled holes in the fiber glass and attached one of the tarps permanently to the rear opening of the shell. I was able to pull it pretty tight. I ran the nuts through the Grommets and drilled just a couple of hole through the tarp along that same triple folded edge. I had a feeling it was about as well attached as I could manage. I had a half tube of clear bathtub caulk left over so I put a dab over and around the bolt heads.

On the front end, I attached the tarp the same way, except that I used wing nuts. I did that so that I could remove it easily to put things in and take them out again. It was noon when I had the lawnmower, and gas can inside. My tool box was on the deck along with the bike and scooter. I planned to spend the day working on it.

On the computer inside the house I had the directions on the screen. I followed them step by step as I removed the shell of the scooter. Unfortunately my scooter was not the easiest to convert. I set my mind to screwing up at least a dozen times, but also to stay with the project no matter what.

Once the shell was removed I realized quickly that the job would be easier than I had expected, but that I needed more tools to do it simply. The first thing I had to decide was how to cut the frame. The place I needed to cut was just two metal bars separated by about six inches of open space. I could buy a hack saw, or I could buy an angle grinder with a cut off disk. I wondered if I would ever use the angle grinder again. I decided that I probably would, so I went back to the home depot and bought a cheap one. Even so with the extra disk and tax it came to fifty dollars. More than I had paid for the whole scooter.

At home I carefully removed the speed controller from the scooter. I disconnected only the motor wires. To my surprise the battery charger plugged right up and the light turned red. I hoped that meant that it was charging. While it did it's thing I made quick work of cutting the frame just behind the battery area. Since the motor was bolted to each side of the frame, the frame didn't fall apart.

When I lifted the rear section of the scooter, I discovered that it was very unstable. It was in need of a cross piece where I had cut the frame. It was back to the shoe box to see if I knew a welder. What I knew was a guy who owned about every tool ever made and who owed me a favor from long ago.

"Hey Eddie, it's John Abba, how you doing man?"

"I'm fine Abba. What is it you want this time?"

"Hey you hurt my feelings. I don't always want something when I call you."

"Sure you do. We are not social friends. I don't feel bad about it Abba, you don't have any friends."

"Well that's true I guess. I need a little welding done, do you still have the welder?"

"Bring it over about one. Be here when I get back from lunch and I'll do it before I start back on the bird."

"The bird?"

"Yeah,I'm doing some body work on a Tbird restoration. Just be here at one and this better not take long."

"Ten minutes tops. You do have a piece of metal around don't you?"

"Probably. just bring it over and if I don't have it I'll tell you where to get it."

Since it was 11:30, I went into the house and made myself lunch. I made an egg sandwich and called it breakfast and lunch.

I had used the first ninety bucks to buy the camera, film, and chemicals, even though they had not
as yet arrived. I thought I might just use the second ninety to buy a scooter to motorize my bike. I had no immediate plans, so I renewed my search of Criag's List for an electric scooter or electric bike.

I found a nonworking 500watt scooter on Craig's list for 50 bucks. From the Internet I found that the scooter was simple to deconstruct and repair. It would probably be worth that, but if the owner hadn't sold it, I might get it a little cheaper. I made arrangements to see the scooter the next day after the owner came home from work.

"So, would you take $40?" I asked as I looked at the dust covered hunk of steel and plastic. He surely wouldn't have made a deal, if he knew that I had driven 30 miles to buy the scooter. I was going home with it deal, or no deal.

"Yeah, I guess I could do that. I want it out of my garage." the man in the business suit said. He obviously was one of those guys who came home from work and kept his suit on till bedtime. I would have been in jeans and a cut off sweat shirt within ten minutes of hitting the door. I realized that he was serious, he just wanted it gone period.

I loaded the scooter into the trunk of my car without any help from the man in the suit. It didn't matter that I scratched the bumper of my ten year old car. It had plenty of other scratches on it. I felt right pleased with myself on the drive home.

I had enough tarp covering the lawn mower so that I could cut off a bit to cover the scooter until I could work on it the next day. I slipped it under the deck. The bicycle sat in my bedroom along with way too many other things. The three small rooms were quickly getting over filled.

I had a thought once I was inside the house. Molly's school term would be over soon. It might be over any day as a matter of fact since they were planning an end of term part. If she decided to move I would have to decide what to do with the space.

I mean I enjoyed the extra rent money, but I also needed more space. I went onto the net to do research. Yes even that small a decision got researched. The best advice I could find was to evaluate the kind of space I needed. Would it be a better investment to build a storage shed in the back of the lot or kick Molly out. Not really kick her out just not rent the unit after she left.

It wasn't the most economical solution, but it was the easiest and fastest. I decided to buy a pre built storage building which could be trucked in. Once on the ground, and leveled, it would be as good as anything I could build, probably better. I went through my business card file till I found the card for Smith and Son Storage Solutions.

"Monk, this is John Abba."I said to the man who answered the phone.

"This Sam, my dad isn't around much any more."

"Ah, I knew your dad back in the day. I just called to get a price on a storage building for my lawnmower and bicycle that kind of thing."

"You looking for one of the little mini barn things?" I could tell he was all excited. It must have been the most expensive building made.

"No, I was thinking one of those unfinished, small, metal army Quonset hut kind of things." I said. I knew his heart sank. That was probably one of the cheaper if not the cheapest of all designs. It was no more than a few metal rods bent in a half moon configuration to form the walls and roof in one continuous run of metal sheets. The ends were usually no more than a few pieces of barn metal sheets, The whole thing could likely be done in a couple of hours. It was more like a giant, inverted, round bottomed, metal loaf pan than anything else

"So how big are we talking about?" He asked.

"What are your standard sizes and prices?" I asked. he wasn't going to get me on some custom size sure charge.

"I guess the 8x8 is the most popular yard size or maybe the 8x10 or even 10x12."

"What kind of prices are you talking about?"

"8x8 with local setup and delivery is 699 plus tax. The 8x10 is 899 and the 10x12 is 1099 plus tax and out of town delivery is more."

"I'm in town. If I decide to go with you when can you do it?"

"I need about three days to schedule it and do the setup of it."

"Let me make a few calls, and I'll get back to you."

"The only thing cheaper is a big plastic box, but you make your calls." He didn't seem happy that I was going to call around. I probably wouldn't have if his dad had given me the same prices. I knew part of it was his being younger and unknown to me.

"Thanks I will." I said just as short and nasty as I could.

I made a few calls around town and found that he was pretty much right. All those building were about the same price. Most of them wanted to erect them on site from some kind of kit thing. His price wasn't the absolute lowest but it was right down there.

I got the steel gauge from the other two lowest ones and then called him. His steel was even thinner than the others. I decided that I would give the job to someone else. I didn't owe the kid anything. His dad was the one I knew. Even then I would have tried to beat his dad down to a price to match the other guys.

I almost made the deal with a guy a few blocks from Smith, when I made one last call to a local home and garden store. The store wasn't even one of the chains. He was just a guy who had been in business even before I came to town. I had his number in my shoe box of business cards, why I had no idea.

"Sorry Mr. Abba, but my dad retired. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Mike, You kept me out of jail once. I got in some stupid kid fight on Main Street. You talked the officer into calling my dad instead of arresting me."

"Oh, that had to have been a long time ago." Actually it was how his dad's card got into my box.

"So what can I do for you?" he asked.

"To be honest, I'm looking for a storage building of some kind for my backyard. Something to put a lawn mower and bicycle inside. I was thinking about one of those cheap metal Quonset hut type storage buildings."

"How big do you need?"

"Big enough for a lawnmower, a gas can, my bike and a tool box maybe."

"How about 8x10 you think that would be big enough.

"Sure but how much?" I asked.

"Well I have an 8x10 fiberglass shell out back. It's really just a big ole half pipe. It does come with three hurricane straps. I have mine staked down to keep the wind from blowing them away. I use them to store chemicals and stuff. It's open on both ends and we use a plastic tarp over the ends. The tarp is good for four or five years. You could build ends of some kind I'm sure."

"Could you spare one?" My mind was working at full speed. I wasn't quite sure how I would use it, but it sounded like something different enough for me to like.

"Sure I have a half dozen I have never used. Tell me where you live and I'll have the delivery guy drop it off tomorrow."

"You never did say how much." I wanted to know before I agreed.

"Mr. Abba, I don't even know what I paid for them. Would $200 be too much?"

"Hell no, I'll give your driver cash," I said.

"Good enough," Mike said ringing off.