I seemed to have a hundred projects going on all at once. Of course I didn't, but it seemed like that. I had juggled more than one case and hundreds of threads within each one, but this juggling was different somehow. The murder cases didn't really involve me. I was sure I could get everything in my life to come together but how and when were questions I couldn't answer. Plus there was the nagging thought in the back of my mind, what was the end of it all anyway. I mean there was just me, why was I bothering with any of it. Why not just lay down and sleep my way to the grave.

The only answer I could come up with was that it was the struggle that made life worth living. I supposed that twenty odd year on the line had warped me. Then again I saw other men my age walking the same trail or puttering in their shops all around town. Men who presumably could have squeeked by on their pensions as well as I. I again decided to stop thinking about it, and just get on with living whatever part of my life was left.

I spent a couple of more days reading about this and that on the Net. I even watched a couple of newer released movies. I found that not having gone to movies for the last ten years didn't seem to matter at all. They were still making the same movies, the only difference being that the faces in them had changed. They were still cowboy movies, even if the bad guys wore gold chains, and the good guys wore suits.

In the new movies they had Turf wars instead of range wars. Good and evil were still the motivations, even if the lines were a little gray. They had always been gray, just ask Tom Horn, when you get to where ever he is spending eternity.

Aside from the net I continued to walk. I was getting to know people on the trail. Okay it was just enough to say hi and smile, but they at least smiled back. At one time they had run like hell. I expect it was because unlike them, I wore work clothes for my walks. I just wasn't the track suit type. Most of the real fashion types walked at the mall, so I was only mildly out of place on the trail. However, I stood out like a Baby Ruth bar in a punch bowl at the mall.

I found that on those mornings when I ate it by the lake I felt more at peace with the world. I decided that the extra protein and fat from the biscuit accounted for it. Although It was probably combination of the lake and the animal fat, rather than either one in and of itself. It was on one of those, alls well with the world, morning when the camera finally arrived.

Since I still didn't have any chemicals, I put my efforts into doing the very slight modifications to it. I didn't have to do them, but to use the camera with a film holder and still make full size negatives, the guides from the roll film needed to be removed. I could shoot a smaller sized negative but I wanted as much negative as I could get. It would help keep the negative's sharpness just in case the lens wasn't as good as the author had claimed.

The camera modification was simple. I just removed the roller and the roll film guide from the take up area. There was nothing to it. Twenty minutes after I got the camera in the mail, it was ready to go. I realized then that I would need to pick up a better light meter. The camera came with one which had been sold with the camera, but it would never read lower light situations.

It also had the funky exposure readings used only by Polaroid at that time. Still knowing what they were equal to in modern settings, and knowing how to figure how to use them in low light, made the camera very usable indeed. The fact that just anyone couldn't do it, added to it's appeal.

I had the peanut butter jar tank, I had the camera and it had been modified, the next thing I needed was to make the cardboard film holders. I had decided to give them a try as well as the film directly in the back method. The paper holder would allow me to load the camera in the daylight and just remove the film in the dark bag. I thought it might be easier to get the film aligned in daylight. the negative size would be the same either way.

Since the cereal box film holder required that I cut the film to 3 1/2 by 5, I made myself a film jig, so that I could cut the film in the dark bag. I willed the chemicals and film to arrive quickly so that I could begin my tests. It seemed that God didn't listen to me, since the postman didn't ring at all. It wasn't that I was bored, it was more that I loved a challenge.

Molly came while I was making cereal box film holders. "Mr. Abba, I was wondering, if you would mind, if Misty and I had a party. The summer school term is ending this next week and we would like to have some friends over."

"Okay, but lets set the ground rules. I will try to be as liberal as possible and you try to work with me. Everything is negotiable."

"We thought we might have ten or so people over. If we do, it is going to spill over into the yard. Misty said that she would cut the grass, if you hadn't already done it by then."

"Well It might grow back, even if I have cut it. You two can do any yard work or decorating you would like, but if you decorate, it comes down the next day."

"Okay, we can do that. How about music? We will probably want to dance."

"The law says music after 11pm has to be confined to your own home. In other words it can't be loud enough to be heard in the street. I can live with that, but all noise has to end by 2AM." If you guys want to set around a talk after 2AM in normal voices, I'm cool with it."

"They should all be gone by 2," Molly stated.

"I know you are over the age necessary to purchase alcohol, but do not dispense it to minors. If one of them gets in trouble afterward, you are all screwed. You don't need a criminal record if you want to work for the city."

"We know that and yes there will be minors but we will be careful."

"Let your drunks sleep it off on the floor."

"I hope their won't be any drunks but okay."

"I will inspect for damages the next day. If there are any I will have them repaired and you will pay the bills."

"How about cleaning and painting can we do that?"

"Sure, I'm talking about holes in the walls. Burns in the carpet anything like that."

"Mr. Abba we are not talking about a drunken brawl here." Molly said seriously.

"Very few people plan for that, but they do sometimes evolve into it. You have the perfect excuse, if you want to use it. Your landlord lives next door."

She smiled. "So would a week from Friday be cool with you?"

"One day is as good as another," I replied.

That same afternoon, I picked up the tee shirts with the lightening bolt logo. They looked just stupid enough to be a struggling courier outfit's uniform. I didn't want to look too prosperous.

I got a chance to use the tee shirts the very next day. Susan called to inform me that she had three more cease and desist court orders to serve. Susan did mostly divorce and civil law cases, so there would be a never ending supply of 'stop what ya doin' court orders to serve. I could live with the three a week thing.

Since I wasn't doing anything else I drove over to pick up the orders. They all were in Williams and all were businessmen. Since none was a divorce, I didn't expect any trouble. I was almost right in my thinking. Two of them were gracious about the cease and desist orders. They had been expecting them and probably had already done whatever they needed to do in advance.

One of the orders did turn out to be a bit different. First of all the guy looked like a snake oil salesman. He wasn't expecting the court order and summons to come from a courier dress so casually. He accepted it and I took his picture holding the envelope with a cheap digital camera. Unfortunately taking the picture gave him time to open the envelope.

I made it out the door before he came out to explain how innocent he was. I had the great pleasure of saying, "Sir, I doubt that you are innocent, none of us really are. Also I just don't give a fuck." I thought for a second that he was going to hit me, but reason won out.

I went to bed late since I continued to read whatever I could find on the Internet. I slept in only a few extra minutes. I drove directly to the park. I found that it was much easier to walk first thing. All during my walk I tried to think of a way to change my menu without blowing my diet all to hell. I was sick of both eggs and cereal. I just didn't know whatever I could have and stay true to the diet thing. I had lost 12 pounds in a month. From all the things I read, it was excellent progress. I didn't want to waste it, so I tried to come up with something more appealing, without breaking the calorie bank.

I found a biscuit restaurant with a drive thru and a sausage for 350 calories, that was close to the microwave egg sandwich, so I figured I would go for it once a week. The first day that I had one for breakfast, I took it and a large black coffee to the reservoir. I sat in my car, while I watched the water skiers slip over the calm water. I slowly ate my biscuit while drinking my coffee. I thoroughly enjoyed both the view and the sandwich.

I didn't go so far as to pick a day of the week for the morning treat, I just decided that once a week I would leave the house with a thermos of black coffee, then drive to the restaurant. I could take my walk after the picnic breakfast. It did mean that I would have to go a long time on peanut butter cookies before dinner. I was sure that once a week I could handle it..

The next morning it was back to the old routine, but I was comfortable with it as well. The walk gave me plenty of time to think. It also gave me time to do a little soul searching. If I had been in a 12 step program, I would have had a lot of people on my apology list. Since I wasn't I just shook my head and felt bad for about two minutes.

The second sausage biscuit morning I got the call from Susan. Since I had already written a check to the state dept of revenue for the license, all I had to do was stop by her office pick up my new license. After that I would be in business as a courier, licensed process server. I was officially an officer of the court again. As a courier service I could carry freight, not that I had any intention of ever carrying anything that wouldn't fit in a briefcase.

I left Susan's office with a copy of the license, and three more names and addresses. As per my insistence, I also had their place of employment and the make, model, and license number of their cars. It was more information than I needed, but it was better to have it an not use it, than to needed and spend hours trying to run it down.

I checked out the papers in my car and found that I had two men and one woman on the list. Since Susan's office was in Williams, I served two subpoenas there before I returned home for the last one. On that service I got cussed out. I had been cursed before so I just smiled and said, "Thank you." Nothing pissed off an angry man as much as someone who was bigger and badder but wouldn't play along. If he wanted to get his ass kicked, he would have to go to a red neck bar with that attitude.

I stopped by the 'T.. Time Store' on the way home. I knew the owner, so getting a rush order of mixed sized tee shirts with my new logo wasn't a big problem. Even rush, it would take three days. He explained that he just took the order, someone else printed them. With a three day turn around I knew they were not printed in china. I probably could have gotten them online cheaper, but I didn't really want to risk it. I wanted them right or I wanted someone to hold responsible, so I paid a little more I'm sure.

The next morning I emailed the delivery conformation notice to Susan. I explained that I had the signatures to back up my delivery claims. My cell phone rang a few minutes later.

"Check your bank account, I just transferred 90 dollars into it."

"Thanks for the prompt payment."

"It was a pleasure since you served the papers so quickly. I know a couple of other attorneys who could use your service," she suggested.

"Not just now, but maybe later."

"Okay just keep it in mind." she demanded.

I continued to walk the trail every morning and I read all I could about many things on the Internet. I was a sponge for information all of a sudden. I thought that maybe I should have been some kind of researcher at the library maybe. I would have happily continued my routine for months, if I hadn't owned a cell phone. I had dumped the land line phone when I moved, but the cell still haunted me.

"Hey Abba, I see you are still alive," the voice coming over the cheap cell phone was barely recognizable. Even the poor quality phone couldn't completely disguise the voice of my old partner.

"Yeah, I'm still alive are you?"

"Yeah but some days I have to check the obits to be sure." He said it with a laugh,

"What do you want Charlie, I know you aren't calling to be sociable. You have no social graces at all. I always liked that about you."

"Meet me for lunch at Marie's in thirty minutes and I'll give it up for you."

"You buying?" I asked.

"I'm buying mine," he replied.

"Cheap bastard," I said as I hit the disconnect button. I had time for a cup of coffee and a quick shower before the short drive to Marie's cafe.

If I had to meet a cop for lunch, a cop hangout seemed appropriate. It would be hard to find an hour, of any day, when at least one cop car didn't either sit in front of the cafe, or pass through the parking lot. Marie was the widow of an old bull cop who died on the line. I don't know how other towns treated their dead cop's family, but in Carthage we took care of them like they were our own family. If you wanted to rob a restaurant, it would have been the worlds biggest mistake to choose Marie's.

"Detective Abba, that no good Charlie Speaks is lookin' for you." Marie always greeted everyone who entered. She knew almost everyone of the couple of hundred customers, who passed through on any given day.

"Yeah, that sorry bastard called me on my cell phone. If I had knowed it was him, I would never have answered. He sure as hell ain't worth 10 cents total, let alone 10 cents a minute."

The older black lady burst into a laugh almost as big as she was. She led me to his table shaking her head. Charlie wasn't the only one at the table. Directly across from him sat Louise Mose. Louise had been a rising star, it looked as though she had made it to homicide anyway.

"You know Louise don't you Abba?" Charlie asked.

Yeah I know her. Hey Louise how's it going."

"Not bad John, how you liking retirement."

"Better than I expected actually."

"You look like you lost a few pounds," she suggested.

"Yeah, not being able to afford food has that effect on me."

"Careful what you admit to John, we are looking for someone who could be you."

"Then take me in. I got nothing better to do than sue you." I laughed.

"You remember that guy who raised the dear hounds. The one over in Bethel."

"Sure tobacco chewing, old man with long white hair."

"Yeah, he wore bib overalls," Charlie said.

"What crime did that old man commit. Hit somebody with his walker. He must be a hundred by now,"

"He didn't commit a crime somebody killed him. He was up here shopping at walmart when somebody hit him in the head. They took his wallet."

"Poor old bastard killed for a few bucks. I'm sure he didn't have much."

"His daughter said he paid cash for everything. No telling how much money he had on him."

"Old school," I said.

"How come you remember him," Louise asked looking at me.

"He came to town about twenty years ago. He was much younger and pretty damn tough back then. Me and Charlie was rookies bout that time. Old man got drunk and wanted to fight. Me and him went fist city. I had him down but he wouldn't stop resisting."

"Yeah, Abba hit him in the head with a sap. Old man shook his head then said, "That weren't fair boy." Abba threw the sap about twenty yards."

"Why would you do that?" Louise asked.

"So he couldn't shove it up my ass." I said it with a perfectly straight face. Charlie had set her up and she knew it almost instantly. She knew it from the sound of his laugh. I waited till they both stopped laughing. "Two things a man never forgets, his first women, and his first ass whuppin."

She waited for the laughter to subside, then she asked, "So who was it?"

"Edith Thompson," I said without missing a beat. I had been asked that about half the times Charlie and I told that story. I waited a few seconds then turned to Charlie, "So why tell me about the old man."

"You know the dude who iced him. I thought you might have an idea where he would go after."

"Who you looking for?"

"Baby George," Charlie said.

"Baby George is a no good junkie, but I never knowed him to do no armed robbery."

"He probably thought that the old man would just give it up. Knowing that mean old bastard, he probably kicked Baby in the balls."

"Most likely you can find him at his sister's place down on Cable Street." I said shaking my head in agreement.

"Take some backup if you go there for him," I suggested.

"Why? you said he was harmless," Louise reminded me.

"He is, his witch of a sister isn't. She tried to cut me a few years back."

"Which house on cable?" Charlie asked.

"Used to be that gray two story. It's that second house on the right north of Green."

"Probably ain't gray no more," Louise suggested.

"It ain't been gray in twenty five years," I admitted. "Just some gray flakes hanging on."

The grilled cheese sandwich served with the bowl of soup was delicious. Charlie must have had an informant budget after all, since he paid for my lunch. I said goodbye to the two of them, then drove home.

I was greeted in the drive by Misty. "Did Molly's bitch mother talk to you about me?"

"Nope, she mostly talked to me about Molly. Why? Is she giving you a hard time?"

"She hired someone to check up on me."

"Oh, I had no idea. Why would she do that?" Misty was mad as hell. People often give themselves away when they are angry.

"I have absolutely no idea. I have one of those credit alert things my dad gave me since he pays my credit card bill. I got an email that someone ran my credit check. I called and threatened to go over and whip his ass, so he told me he was doing it for a concerned mother. It wasn't hard to guess who that was."

"Well I had no idea. There isn't anything for him to find is there?"

"Of course not." She paused a few second then added. "Unless you count the two ex husbands, but those were accident, I promise. " She grinned and I knew it was a joke. It wasn't the best time for light humor, but it was harmless. Someone else might have been concerned, but I just laughed.

Nothing much changed in my life for a week after Ms James visit. Susan continued to work on getting me licensed as a courier company, and I continued to walk in the park. I also spent a lot of time on the computer learning about my new, to me, camera.

The camera arrived in the mail after four days. I didn't even try to use it until I understood it better. What really was a pisser, was the fact that I needed several different skills to pull off my plan and no one place on the net had all the information.

For instance the web site, of the vintage style poster shooter, informed me that he shot a Polaroid model 95 antique camera. The site even had a picture of him holding the monster camera. The camera was not 1850 vintage, but it was 1950 vintage. Since it had a bellows it could easily be mistaken for an earlier camera by people who didn't really know cameras. Most people had a hard time remembering film cameras at all, so I wasn't all that worried.

The 95, I learned from a different site, was probably chosen because it was the first of the Polaroids. It was made by the Wallensak company. All the later models were made by the Polaoid company in their own plants. Most likely the lens was a bit better on the Wallensak made Polaroid.

What the site did not explain was what kind of film to use, since that kind of Polaroid film hadn't been made in well over thirty years. For that I had to do a Google search which lasted most of the day. On another old fart's site I found instructions for using 4x5 film in the camera. Only a complete idiot would go to all that trouble, but that described me to a T. It really allowe me to do most of the things I wanted to do. Even the limitations were actually beneficial to me.

To make more than one exposure with the camera was going to be a real pain in the butt. That being the case, it would force me to be more thoughtful in my shot selection, and more careful in my execution of it. I wouldn't be in competition with digital tourist cameras, I would be in competition with myself to create the shot in one take. As any director will tell you that is the holy grail, one vision turned into a perfect image in a single try.

So the mechanics were difficult but doable, I would open the back of the camera, insert a single piece of 4x5 film, close the camera, then go make the shot come home and process the film. Oh yeah the camera had to loaded and unloaded in the dead dark, so every step had to be thought out carefully. It was not at all like a digital generation disposable image. The digital generation's motto was shoot a hundred to get one image.

So first problem was I didn't have a dark room in which to load the camera. It wasn't likely that I would buld a dark room, so the second choice would be a black bag job. The black or changing bag, was made like a tee shirt. You inserted the camera though the bottom of the tee shirt then zipped it up. Yeah it had a zipper on the bottom and elastic in the sleeves. Once you put your arms inside the sleeves the real work could begin.

I was determined to do everything myself. Partly to save the twenty bucks for the changing bag, and partly it was just to have an outfit like no other. I didn't need the net to figure out how to make my own changing bag. A thick black sweat shirt, a couple of large rubber bands for the sleeves, some spring clamps from the hardware store for the bottom, and a big needle and thread to sew up the neck of it, made a decent changing bag.

After I knew how to load the camera, and I made the changing bag, I ordered the film and chemicals on line. While I was waiting, I thought about how to develop the film. I had developed black and white 35mm film, so I knew that I needed a daylight tank. A daylight tank is just what it sounds like. I would load the film in the changing bag, then i could develop it in the kitchen sink. I went back to the net to find a way to make a tank. There just were not any 4x5 daylight tanks made anymore. Nobody used 4x5 film for the first time those days. Everyone should have had their tanks for years i guessed. Plus only real pros worked in that format. I was far from a pro, so it was a shot in the dark for me.

I did find plans for a DIY 35mm tank on line. It was made from a glass jar. The top was the only hard part. Any jar with a plastic lid would work. It was just a matter of blacking out the jar and making a light tight baffle on the top. The instructions explained that light will not turn the corner but it will light up the corner so a couple of turns were needed to make the baffle. The design was way simple.

I found that my almost empty peanut butter jar was the right depth. I emptied out the jar a bit prematurely. I drilled a hole in the top of the jar, only after a trip to the hardware store for a spade bit. While there I also bought the two fitting, a piece of 3/4 inch PVC pipe and the Jbweld epoxies to hold it all together. I also bought a six pack of black electrical tape, as well as the spring clamps for the black bag. It was not cheap, but then it was cheaper than buying the ready made stuff. And as my daddy said, "Son when you buy a tool to do a job, you can do that same job over and over without buying the took again. When you pay someone to do it, you have to pay them every time."

I had a project for the next couple of days, so I was happy. Since my retirement, I found that I could do a lot more things than I had ever imagined. All those years hanging out around my dad weren't wasted after all.

Over my years as a cop, I had learned to deal with a problem as best I could, then put it out of my mind and move on. Yes I would often come back to the problem over and over, but I never allowed any one problem to become all consuming. That is what I did with the camera and the courier business, I worked on them till the immediate needs were met, then I just moved on to something else.

The something else that afternoon was not what I had expected at all. The something else was Molly and her mother. "Hello Molly," I said as the two of them approached.

"Mr. Abba, This is my mother," Molly said with a smile.

"Hello Ms. James, it's a pleasant surprise meeting you. Most of my surprises are not pleasant."

"Molly has told me a lot about you MR Abba. I feel much better knowing she has someone close who is reliable."

"I'm not sure how reliable I really am these days, but I will try to take care of her." Since Misty was not around I didn't mention her. I had no idea how much Mom knew.

"So what can I do for you Molly?" I asked it trying not to stare at Ms James. It was hard not to. Ms James took a lot better care of her herself than Molly. She was strikingly beautiful. Like her daughter she was a bottle blonde, but her bleach was a better job. Her hair has at least three colors, so I was sure it had been processed, but it was a beautiful job. She Just had that well taken care of look, very much like Mary Seymore. I wondered why Molly had a more farm girl look. I wondered but I made sure not to ask. Judging from Molly's apparent age, her mother would have to be close to sixty but she really didn't look it. Most likely it was the work of some expensive surgeon. She just did not look like she was the mother of the almost homely Molly.

"Mom and I are going to dinner, I wondered if you would like to join us?" Molly asked. "That is if you don't have any plans/"

"Well to be honest, I have been planning a few quiet evenings at home. Maybe we can do it another time?" I suggested.

"Of course Mr. Abba, I'm sorry we sprang this on you at the last minute. However, I did want to speak with you about Molly. I wonder if we might stop by for coffee after dinner?" Ms James was certainly no shrinking violet.

"Of course, I'll be expecting you. Can you give me an estimate as to the time?" I asked it because some people tend to dawdle over dinner. I didn't want to be tied to staying awake late into the evening.

"Shall we say nineish?" Ms James asked. It was obvious she was the dominant personality in her family. She didn't say, and of course Molly never had, but I guessed that she was divorced.

"That would be just fine," I suggested.

Since it was only six PM at the time, I did some more research. I searched Google for information about motor assisted bicycles. I have a feeling that I could use the bike for more deliveries, if it had a motor assist. I wondered if I could use it as a real tool, not just a subterfuge. It would be interesting at least. The research led me to believe that it might be possible, if I were careful about it. I needed to make some trial runs testing different ideas. It was yet another project to keep me occupied. I tended to stay occupied with things that were of only minor significance, even to me.

The time passed quickly as it almost always did while I was on the computer. I was surprised how spungelike my mind had become. I had always thought that I was too old to learn , I found instead, that things came much easier to me than I would have ever believed possible. The knock startled me.

"Well come on in," I said it to Ms James. Molly was no where to be seen. "Molly isn't coming?"

"No I thought this would be easier, if it were just you and I."

"Oh and why is that?" I had an idea we would be discussing Molly's sex life and I was very uncomfortable at the prospect.

"Frankly it's Molly I hoped to discuss with you."

"I'm sure you know more about her than I do."

"If you are asking do I know that she is gay, then yes I know." Ms James did not beat around the bush.

"Well that takes care of the elephant. So what can I tell you?"

"Tell me that this new woman in her life is not just using her."

I thought about it before I answered. "Since I don't know their financial arrangements, I can't comment one way or another. All I can say is Molly holds the lease and it will be Molly I expect to pay me."

"That's not what I meant. This Misty person who exactly is she?"

"I have no idea except that she told me she was in the criminal justice course at the community college. You could probably find out more from them. I would try to find a classmate willing to talk about her, If I were you."

"I don't know how to do that kind of thing. Since you were a police officer I expect that you do know how."

"I am not an investigator. I am just an old worn out cop. besides right now about all your daughter can offer Misty is a bed to share."

"If that is what Misty believes then there is no problem. It is not the reality of the situation. Molly has nothing at the moment, that is true. However when I die, the situation will be much different."

I had no idea what that meant and didn't really want to know. I made the assumption that Molly stood to inherit a large estate. I didn't care, so I assumed no one else would either. That however was not the way Ms James saw it. People who had money also seemed to have more than a little paranoia about it. I guess it was part of the trade off.

"To be honest I really do not want to look through Misty's laundry for dirt. Just let them enjoy themselves for whatever reason. You can always write your will to make sure Molly doesn't throw the money away."

"So you are refusing to do a background check on her?"

"Yes I am, but there are any number of guys who will do it. Some will even find whatever you want true or not." Ms James did not take that news well. She looked as though she might want to cut my throat, in a most ladylike way of course.

I reported to Susan by phone. I could already figure out that my cell plan was not going to be enough. After I moved a couple of weeks before I had discontinued the regular phone service. I chose to go with a prepaid cell phone service. I one never really planned to use the phone, which I hadn't, it is by far the least expensive. It could be available for under ten bucks a month. The downside was that the per minute price was not cheap. It looked as though I would be using the phone more than the minimum. I looked into making phone calls on my computer line. It just seemed too complicated.

I sure as hell didn't want a phone that was smarter than me, so I decided for the time being to go with email and the cell phone for emergencies. I set up an email for the company under the name LECS. I gave the email to Susan Jamison and I also sent an email to Herbert Seymore. I figured I might as well take on a second client, if I was going to the trouble of setting up a company.

All that mental work was completed in the evening of that first day. The next morning I went for a walk on the trail. My days on the trail were numbered as the weather was beginning to cool. While I was on the trail I gave some thought to taking pictures again. My mind worked on several projects at a time but not at the same time. That morning on the trail I chewed on the camera and reenactment problem. I really did want to follow them, and I wanted to shoot pictures, but I wanted to fit in as well. Not necessarily be period with the equipment, but not be so damn blatantly modern either.

From what I had read the old Polaroid roll film cameras might be the way to go. since the film hadn't been made for many, many years and had been so expensive at the time it was made, the cameras had seen little use. Even though the earliest ones were not much more than novelties they had been extremely well made. No they didn't have any bells and whistles, not even for their time, but there were battleship tough. Anyone I could find was likely to be still working and still light tight. It seems that a lot of the old cameras with bellows had a tendency to have light leaks in the bellows. the Polaroid almost never did.

There was a tradeoff as there almost always was in life. The camera had to be either converted to modern film, used in funky ways. I had absolutely no desire to chop on a camera, since my building skills were pretty much non existent. There was an old man on the net who had managed to devise a very slow and painstaking way to use the old Polaroid. I was considering giving his method a try. I had almost made up my mind to do so days before. I finally gave in and decided that it was the way I wanted to go for the reenactment shoots.

When I arrive home I went to work on the business plan. I almost forgot about the camera but it popped back in my mind for just long enough for me to find one on Ebay and buy it. Even with shipping the camera was much less than twenty dollars. I bought and paid for it, then promptly forgot it.

What I did do was to spend my morning working on a logo for the company. Once I had the silly logo designed, I ordered magnetic signs on line. They were much more expensive than the stick on type, but I wasn't sure how long I would be in the courier business. I stopped for lunch around noon but instead of lunch I had a bowl of cereal. It was most people's lunch time but it was my breakfast time.

After lunch I returned to the thrift store bike and what if any use I could make of it. I liked the idea of a bike courier but it would be not be practical in this application. There were two towns and rural work to do. The area was just not a metropolis like New York or Boston. Then again I wasn't going to be doing typical courier work. The bikes might prove a good cover. Who would expect a subpoena from a bike messenger. I could always drive the car to within a couple of blocks of the delivery address, then ride the bike up to the door. it would make downtown parking much easier as well. There were some advantages.

A bigger and more practical problem was in finding the addresses. Should I go with maps, which I understood, or a GPS system, which I did not understand at all. I did an afternoon of research and contemplation before I decided that GPS and mapping would work Mapping to decide the order and GPS to guide me from one spot to another. however the volume was not sufficient to justify the GPS system at the moment. I knew that I needed to keep my eye on the overhead, so I decided to not decide for a while.

"Hello Mr Abba, this is Susan Jamison. I got your name and number from Herbert Seymore."

"I see," I said that as I opened the door to my old car. At that moment I was standing in the parking lot of the park where I took my morning walk. On that day the walk began at 10am instead of my usual 8am. the weather was turning cooler so my walking outside was pushed back until the sun had a chance to warm the air. It wouldn't be too much longer until I would either walk after lunch or move it all into the mall. That idea really bothered me.

"Mr. Abba, Herbert said that you could serve court papers when others couldn't"

"That's nice of him but I doubt that it isn't completely accurate."

"I am in need of a first class process server."

"Sorry but I'm not looking for a job."

"No, I didn't mean a job. I would like to contract with you to serve all our court documents."

"I'm really not interested," I said it as forcefully as I could. I thought it would put an end to the conversation.

"Herbert said that you were retired and probably not looking to work too much, this probably wouldn't take you five hours a month. If you were to take them all, I think we could work out a compensation package that would be satisfactory."

"What do you call satisfactory?"

"I'm certainly open to negotiations." she suggested. "Look, at the moment I'm paying $30 a service and $20 for refusal to accept. Those are rare but they do happen. The re service of those papers is $20 each time until the guy accepts the paper. It could take ten attempts. It is rare that it goes on that long. Usually his attorney will accept the papers for him if all else fails."

"Why not just serve all of them to the attorney?" I asked.

"It's professional courtesy. If the man denies service the attorney would be forced to tell what he did with the paper or claim client attorney privilege. It just looks bad."

"Well I can serve papers for you but, if it is just going to be the ones I have to chase down, $30 isn't even close to enough."

"How about you carve out an area you are willing to cover and I give you all the papers in that area. If we did that what would you want to serve them all for a flat rate,"

"I assume you want the whole county covered?"

"At least that. I would take in both of the twin cities. We could negotiate anything outside the county on a case by case basis."

"How fast would you need delivery attempts? A trip to Williams for one paper is a real money loser."

"One week normally, with a surcharge for same day." she suggested.

"Okay I'll do the seven day for $30 each, Same day for $50, Out of area $50 plus expenses." Since I don't have a clue what the expenses will be, this is just a starting point. We will renegotiate the pricing later." It sounded like it would just be pocket money, and it would get me out of the house.

"That sounds fair enough," she replied.

"One more thing, you have to help me set up a courier company to give us both some cover." I was thinking like a cop again. I wanted some structure behind me.

"I can do that." You are right a formal company relationship would help us both with taxes and give us some cover. I'll get right on it. What name do you want to use."

"Lightening Express Courier Service," I suggested.

Three thing got accomplished over lunch with Susan, we laid out the guidelines for our relationship, She got the information to file the papers for my new venture, and she also handed me three court summons to serve. Oh yeah, we also had lunch.

I found out a few things about Susan during our short lunch. She was about two thirds of my forty five years of age. She had dazzling red hair, and she wanted her husband to move the hell out. The last I guessed, since on the cell phone, she said to him in a snippy voice, "You have to actually go to the interview, to get the job. We will talk about this when I get home. I'm with a client." there were a few more words spoken, but I tuned them out.

"So do I get to serve the papers on you husband?" I smiled knowing she was not going to be happy that I knew.

"It isn't that bad yet. It's just that I think he might be learning to enjoy unemployment."

She seemed to be upset but not really as angry as other women might be. "I'll give you a discount if you decide to go that route."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. Speaking of that I have three for you."

"I can't charge you for these, I don't have the structure set up yet."

"Do it as an employee and I'll file your papers with the state free." I nodded my agreement, At that point she tossed them onto the table. There is one who has been a problem. He has been avoiding service."

"Do you have a fact sheet on him you can email me."

"What kind of facts?"

"I need to know what he does for a living and where I can reach him during the day."

"I have that attached to all of them."

"Good, lets make that a requirement. I get all the information you have on the subject."

"Well all the pertinent information anyway," she agreed.

I served two of the papers before I even when home. The man who was avoiding service was a real estate agent. I could call to make an appointment and fake him out that way, but it would be difficult to ask for him without making him suspicious. Then of course I had the Lightening Express ID card it would be shame not to use it. I stopped by Office Depot to pick up a long mailing tube. The kind used to protect building plans.

It was simple to have an address label printed and installed on the tube. Five minutes later I was standing in front of the receptionist at a large realty company. I had the large name tag with the Lightening express logo hanging from my shirt pocket.

"Delivery for Amos Reynolds," I said holding the tube. The receptionist reached for it. "Not till he signs," I suggested as I pulled the tube away.

"I'm authorized to sign for it," she replied.

"Cool beans, it is insured for 500 bucks, be sure to put your address on the paper, so the boss knows who to come after, if he tosses it. We all know how careful these executives are."

"Hold on I'll get him on the phone." She picked up the phone and asked the man who answered to come to her desk. She explained that no it was an express courier. He obviously asked if I was a process server.

"Who sent it?" he asked before he accepted the tube?"

"Thomas and Wiley engineers," I read the made up name from the tube.

"I don't know them."

"That's fine. I get paid whether you take it or not." I turned to leave.

"Hold on," he said that to my back.

"Make up your mind, I'm on a schedule." he signed the clipboard and took the tube.

"Oh yeah there is a message with that," I pretended to look through the papers on the clip board then I said. "Oh hell your wife said she would see you in court. You have just been served. Have a blessed day." I walked away smiling.