Those Darn Socks

Marlene was a slow sock knitter . . . she finished the socks, but when she went to hang them on Billy Jack's door knob, his shop was gone and a bunch of computer geeks had moved in. Marlene was ready to leave the socks when she realized the geek door didn't have a knob at all. It had a push bar - well really a pull bar if the sign on the glass was to be believed. "Well," Marlene thought. "My friend Musan has a birthday coming up, I'll just give them to her."

Long Time No See

Yes, gentle reader - Marlene is soon to be back and is still puzzled by the body that flopped out of the closet of her new workshop. Who is this person and why were they in her closet? And why did she need to knit socks?
Find out these answers and more as soon as the Holiday's pass

Wild and Wooly

Marlene drove her Honda Pilot to Multnomah Village. She would be able to walk to the Village when she moved into her new home, she thought. That would be very handy when the coming oil conflagration reached fruition. But she didn't need to worry about the Chinese plot to buy all the oil in the world today. She had bigger fish to fry. She parked her car at the bank and walked across the street to Northwest Wools. Marlene was in luck. Minda, the proprietess of the shop was behind the counter. "Minda. Hello," Marlene began. "I have a crazy question for you."
"Let's cut to the chase," Minda said. "I have inventory to shelve. I just got a new shipment of Opal sock yarn."
"Oh, really," Marlene said. "What colors did you get?"
"It's funny you should ask that," Minda said. "Some guy came in earlier and asked me to make up a sock kit with my newest sock yarn and most expensive needles. He said to give it to you tomorrow morning and that you were to pay whatever it cost."
"How very strange," Marlene said.
"That's not the weird part," Minda said. "He said you have 48 hours to make the socks and then hang them in a clear plastic bag from the door knob of the empty shop where Billy Jack had his tribal rug store. He said if you make the deadline, he will contact you with your next instruction."
"How does he expect me to knit when I'm moving next week and I still don't have acceptable towel bars?"
"I don't know, but I have to tell you he was kind of scary looking."
"Exactly what did he look like?" Marlene asked.
Minda described the man as best she could.
"Are you sure?" Marlene asked.
"Of course I'm sure, why wouldn't I be?"
"Because the man you just described is dead."
"Too bad," Minda said. "I already made up the kit, and it would have made a really nice pair of socks."
"Surely it wouldn't hurt anything if I went ahead and made the socks," Marlene said. "How much do I owe you?"

The Plot Mickens

"Well, well, Mydia," Marlene said. "What have we here?" She bent and picked up the folded paper.
"I saw what you did. I know who you are," the note read.
"How very unoriginal," Marlene said outloud. Mydia Meowed.
"Go to Northwest Wools tomorrow morning and ask for a package", the note continued.
That's better, Marlene thought. If you are going to threaten someone, you should at least be original.
Marlene was an avid knitter, but who would know that? Time to find out.
"Mydia," she said. "Hold my calls, I'm going to the yarn store."

Marlene on the Case

Marlene got off the bus and walked up her street for perhaps the last time. She wasn't sure the towel bars were right, but the new purchasers of her old home were anxious to take posession and were in Marlene's opinion unfeeling about her towel bars.
Mydia awoke when Marlene entered the house. "Meow," she said.
"Come on Mydia," Marlene said. "We have to pack."
Mydia usually followed Marlene around the house, joining in what ever activity Marlene was engaged in. Today she was restless. She paced back and forth in front of the mail slot.
"What is it?" Marlene asked Mydia.
Mydia meowed loudly.
Marlene picked up the letters from the handwoven basket she had made to catch the postal depositions. A subscription renewal for "O" Magazine was in front of a wrinkled copy of Salmon Trout and Steelheader magazine. Mack enjoyed outdoor sports and apparantly so did the mail carrier. Marlene lifted the magazine to set it on the kitchen counter.
A folded light blue note fluttered softly to the floor. . .

What to do, What to do

Marlene turned and headed back to Man's truck.
"Marlene," Man said. "Come back here. We can't just leave this poor stiff laying here being stripped by some old coot."
"Don't be judgemental, Man. That woman looks like an upstanding citizen to me. Besides, what else are we going to do with him? The police obviously don't want him."
"We have to give them a second chance."
"I think we are doing just that," Marlene said. "We brought him to them, what more can they want."
"Don't you think they'd like to know how he got here?"
"Oh, very well." Marlene pulled a small notepad and matching pencil from her purse. She quickly wrote several lines on the paper. "What is your cell phone number, Man?" she asked.
He recited his digits and she recorded them. She tucked the note in the shirt pocket of the dead man.
"There," she said. "When they find him, they'll know he came from the construction site on Texas Street, and that you found him in the closet.
"I found him?" Man said. Marlene wasn't sure she liked the tone in his voice.
"Well it is your house," Marlene said. "And I've got to get back to Mydia. Besides, how will I have time to find out who he is if I'm stuck at the police station answering a bunch of awkward questions?"
Man appeared to have been struck by lightening.
Marlene noticed a Trimet bus was approaching the senior center. She pulled a bus pass out of her alligator skin wallet and strode purposefully to the street.
Man was still standing by the stiff as Marlene boarded the bus. "Call me later and we can talk about those towel bars," she called out the open window.

Marlene Makes a Donation

Man drove past Annie Bloom's books store and the licorice store (yes, the self same one that has unlabeled strawberry micorice), and pulled to a stop at the curb in front of the Multnomah Art Center. Marlene was certain this was the right place to leave the body currently residing in the back of Man's truck. In addition to hosting a number of senior citizen events, the Art Center was home to a community policing office. If finding a dead body in your soon to be closet, in your new community wasn't a community policing problem, she didn't know what was.
"Come on, Man," Marlene said. "We need to wrap this guy up in the comforter and bring him in to the office," Man pulled the by now very stiff, stiff into the back of his vehicle and did his best to wrap him in the blanket. He pulled the body to the edge of the truck bed. "You take one end," he said, indicating two corners of the blanket.
"Can't you just throw him over your shoulder and carry him?" Marlene asked not wanting to wrinkle her linen pants any further.
"No I can't," Man replied, his face turning an intriguing shade of red.
"Oh, very well," she said and gingerly picked up the two offered corners of the blanket.
Man grabbed the other end, and they lifted and dragged the comforter clad body to the sidewalk in front of the center. "You wait with him," Marlene said to Man.
She entered the building and rapped sharply on the door to the community policing office. Nothing happened, so she tried the knob. No luck. This was undoubtedly the result of the same budget cuts that were causing the police to release dangerous criminals from jail. Marlene stormed back out to Man and the body.
"No one seems to be home," Marlene reported.
"Now what are we going to do?" Man asked.
"We aren't going to do anything," she replied. "I'm tired of this guy. Besides, it's time for Mydia's snack." She bent down to tuck the blanket more firmly around the body, only to find an elderly woman in a pastel plaid skirt and pink high top tennis shoes removing the penny loafers from the body.
"What do you think you're doing?" Marlene asked.
"This gentleman is making a donation to our rummage sale," she replied.
"Oh, well, I suppose that is a worthy cause," Marlene said. "Just be quick about it,"
"Do you think he wants to donate his socks too? the woman asked.