Mead Mans Mig Mrive

Marlene hopped into the front seat of Man's truck, "Come on Man, we're taking Mr. McDead here down to the station." Man was beginning to get nervous. He was having a hard time coming up with plausable explanations for how some dead guy ended up in his car. "We can't just drive him to the police!"

"Well, whats your big idea Man?! It's not our problem that the police don't believe us. What better way to show them than to drop the guy off at the station." Marlene was getting impatient with Man; she was also hatching a better plan for taking care of the dead guy. She got out of the front seat of Man's truck and went to the trunk of her black SUV. Marlene pulled out a large blanket that she kept in the back in case of a breakdown during the winter. She climbed back into Man's truck with the brown king sized comforter and hunkered down. "Man! Get in the car, we have got to do something with this guy!" Man climbed up into the drivers seat, sweat beading on his brow. "I don't think I can go through with this Marlene. I will go to jail for having a dead body in my car."

"Its fine Man, nobody is going to jail. We're taking Mr. McDead to 8437 SW Barbur Blvd..."

Marlene's Move

Marlene is suffering the indignity of having her computer unhooked and moved, so the part of Marlene will be played by her understudy - Mannie. . . until further notice. . .

Told you so . . .

"Well, Man, don't you have something to say?" Marlene asked.
Man looked at her and dialed 911.
"I did not cry wolf," She heard Man say to the operator. He talked for another three minutes with the 911 operator trying to convince her that he was not a prank called. His voice got louder and his face turned red. Apparantly the operator wasn't impressed. Man threw his phone through the open window of his car.
"Now what are we supposed to do?" Man asked.
Marlene hadn't waited for Man to ask. While he was busy chatting, she searched the body. It was made more difficult by the fact that the body, while still warm was getting stiff. Marlene knew that this meant the body had been dead a few hours.
Marlene used the tips of her polished nails to gently pull open the bodies pants pockets. The left one yielded only a receipt from Sweets Etc. The right one, however was a treasure trove. Three quarters, including the new Oregon issue, a stick of chewing gum, a Marbucks card and a rather distinctive key, all came out of the ragged white cloth.
Marlene quietly slipped the contents into her own designer pocket.
"Nothing here," she said to Man, and made a show of patting down the body, though in truth she was only skimming the surface, not really touching it.
Marlene looked around. Neat yellow bins sat at the end of each driveway. "Well, it appears that tomorrow is recycling pickup day, you could put him at the curb."
Man looked at her.
"Oh, you're right. You probably don't have the recycling bins for the house yet anyway. Well, put him back in your car. It's time for a special delivery. . .

Man the Man

"Man?" Marlene said into her cell phone. She was sipping a grande triple chocolate, skinny, dry, non fat two shot vanilla hazelnut latte, at the corner Marbucks while waiting for Mydia's nails to dry.
"Man, there is a problem with the closet at the top of the stairs in my studio,"
"What kind of wrong? Well, there is a body in the closet. . . Of course it's a dead body. If it were a live body, I would have simply told it to scram. . . I'm telling you. If I'm not mistaken, until I sign the papers, the house is still yours, and therefore the dead person inside your house is your problem. . . yes, I can meet you there, but I really must take Mydia home first. She has already been out for three hours and she gets cranky if she doesn't get her afternoon nap.
Marlene drove Mydia home fed her a small snack of smoked salmon bits, brushed her teeth, (Mydia's) and settled her on her gel bed. She checked her phone messages, combed her hair and drove back over to her soon to be house. Marlene was startled to see two police cars parked at what would be the curb if Marlene's new street were paved. Man was quick.
"Good afternoon, Gentlemen," Marlene said.
"I don't know what kind of game you are playing, Marlene, but you just made me waste these fine officers time coming over here. There is no dead body. Your closet looks just like it did when I left yesterday. "
"Well he looked dead. Are you sure you didn't just overlook him? He's a blonde, although it doesn't look natural, and he was hanging over the top landing, pointing down the stairs."
"I'm sorry I wasted your time, officers," Man said. "I can handle this,"
The policemen, put their notebooks back into their pockets with what looked like a rehearsed move. Soon, they were in their cars and driving away with a cloud of dust.
"What is your problem?" Man asked Marlene. "I can understand when you call me to say the plumber didn't align the faucets perfectly or the electrical outlet covers aren't perfectly level, but this is more than a waste of my time, we wasted the time of Portland's finest at a time when they are stretched thin fighting real crimes."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Man. I thought you were more evolved than that."
"Whatever," Man said.
"Did you get the new towel bars for the upstairs," Marlene asked Man as he headed for his SUV.
"They're in my car. Do you want to look at them?" Man asked. It was a good idea, since this was the seventh set of towel bars Marlene had tried and rejected for her upstairs bathroom. The feng shui was really fighting her in that room.
Marlene followed Man to the bottom of the driveway. Man pressed the electronic lock button and his car answered with a double click of the door locks. He opened the door to the back cargo space and jumped back. The dead man rolled out and landed with a soft smack on the new pavement. . .

The Perils of Marlene

Marlene looked at the dead man. He didn't really strike her as a reader, but one never knew. She bent down to examine the black lump in his hand. It very much looked like Marlene's favorite licorice. The candy store in Multnomah carries 17 types of black licorice and Marlene had tried most of them. This was her top pick (you can obtain a piece of your own from Sweets Etc in Multnomah Village - just ask for Marlene's favorite). This might account for the grey tooth, she thought. Oh, what to do, what to do. Since the body had fallen out of closet at the home that was soon to be, but wasn't yet Marlene's, she decided this was a problem for Man the builder. She glanced at her watch. 9:55 am it read. Marlene's cat Mydia had a 10:00 appointment at Urban Fauna downtown to have her hair and nails done. Mydia didn't like to be late. Marlene took another look at the dead person. He clearly wasn't going anywhere. "Mydia," Marlene called. "Time to go . . . ."

Dead Men Talking

Marlene stepped back and stumbled down a few steps, catching herself with the oak handrail. Curiosity overcame her and she stepped back up to the body. It was or had been a man. Or at least it appeared to be a man. One could never be certain in this day and age of gender identity crisis. But this person had a blonde crew cut and what Marlene guessed was two days growth of reddish stubble. He had fallen on his side with one arm extended. Marlene wasn't sure what to do next. She bent close to the body. Its chest wasn't rising or falling. A small stream of pinkish fluid dribbled from the slack lips. She could barely see the edge of a grey looking tooth. Marlene remembered the purse sized CPR kits her friend Meather's child Milly had sold last year to raise money for the Girl Scouts. Marlene wished she had purchased one. "I declare you dead," Marlene said outloud, ending the CPR delimma. "Now, who are you, and why are you in my closet?"
Marlene poked the body with her toe. The man rolled onto his back. As he flopped, the hand on his extended right arm clutched convulsively and then fell open. A small grey card fluttered down the stairwell, lighting on the bottom landing. Something black stuck to the palm. Marlene hurried down the steps, picked up the card and returned to the top landing. She looked at the card. It was an Annie Bloom's Baker's Dozen book card, with three entries. . .

(For those of you unfamiliar - Annie Bloom's is the independant book store in Marlene's new community. They give you a business sized card with lines to record your book purchase values. When you have filled 12 lines, you are credited with the average value of your 12 entries to apply to your 13th purchase.) http://www.annieblooms.com/NASApp/store/IndexJsp

The Move

It was a dark and stormy night. . . OK, so it's 9:35 am on a Monday, but this is Oregon so it's still dark and stormy. As I was saying . . . It was a dark and stormy Monday morning as "Marlene" drove to her soon to be home in Multnomah Village. . . the builder had suggested Marlene visit the construction site on a daily basis these last few days just to be sure the details were being finished to her liking. Marlene's Honda Pilot shifted itself into four wheel drive to negotiate the last trecherous yards to the driveway. Marlene (and the car) had been disappointed to learn that the much needed street paving project wasn't going to happen until July of 06!
The house was as grey as the sky surrounding it. The tri-color brown exterior paint had to wait for the sun to shine for more than one day in a row. Marlene sighed. One more barrier to hurdle before she could move to her own private paradise. Paradise in Marlene's mind was the room over the garage. Complete with its own bathroom and three skylights, this would be where Marlene's creative endevours would take place. A room safely away from the distraction of her husband Mack and cat Mydia.
Marlene pulled into the driveway, surprised to find it void of cars. Most days, Marlene parked several houses down the street, due to the various cars, truck, trailers and occasional earth scoopers and diggers. The whole street was quiet, as if time were standing still. She found the door to the house locked, which could only mean she had the place to herself. Marlene retreived her key from the secret hiding place (you didn't think I was going to tell you where that was, did you?) and opened the door to the stairs that led to her over the garage garret. With no one else around, she could start with her favorite space.
The stairs were steep, and Marlene stopped to catch her breath at the top landing. Marlene's garage had a double gabled roof line, and Marlene had requested that the space under the first gable be made into closets. (see www.thebungalowcompany.com and search for the Morris if you need to see a picture to understand what I'm talking about) Counting front and back, this provided three much needed closets for the storage of fabric and oversize cutting mats and other tools of the quilters trade. The closet created by the back gable line was at the top of the stairs, opposite where Marlene was standing. She couldn't help but notice that the as yet unpainted custom closet door was slightly ajar. That was strange. . . She had examined the doors on her last visit and had been impressed with how well they fit the odd little closets. She slipped her fingers under the right top edge of the door (the knobs haven't been installed yet) and opened the door. Marlene screamed! A man's body flopped out of the closet and onto the landing . . . .

Home Again

I'm headed for the Oakland Airport - PDX here I come . . .

Charmed Life

David lives a charmed life. . . yesterday we were in the thick of things, unpacking and organizing when David noticed a Çomcast van in front of his house. Moments later, the technician buzzed David's place asking for access to a hallway to hook something up. David asked him what he had to do to get his internet started and the guy said if he had a kit in his van, he could take care of it. He did and it all worked and here we are. Then we went out and when we came back, we smelled gas in the kitchen. David called the gas company and that night, the gas man came and in the process of fixing the gas leak, he serviced the stove and heater and put them on line, so David didn't have to wait until the 6th afterall. He is now all set. Today we are taking the huge pile of cardboard boxes from moving and the IKEA furniture, to the recycling center. . . Davie had to use a screw driver to get into his chili can this morning, so we will take care of that too. . . .
Jack comes to town tonight too!