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"And you are?"

"Nurse Fox. I'm a personal friend of the doctor's."

"Oh. Is he on staff here? Nobody seems to know who he is."

"He's here temporarily, on his way to Singapore. He'll be leaving next week, I believe." I have no idea where I got Singapore from, but it sounded foreign and mystique.

"Well, please tell the doctor that his diagnosis of Loa Loa was correct. I appreciate his help. Do you know why he's here at Seaview Memorial?"

I hung up.

     After work, I spent another 30 minutes roaming around, hearing two pages for Nurse Fox, and I finally had luck.  Jerry passed me as I was walking by the second floor nurse's station.

     "Are you a supervisor now?"

     "I'm not talking to you," and he kept on walking.

     I thought I was out of luck until I heard a few of the nurses giggling. I had an opening.

     "What's with him?" I asked.

     "You didn't hear?"

     "No. He seems in a bad mood, though. I'm Brooke Castle from the outpatient lab."

     "Glad to meet you. I'm Helen.

     "Hi. I'm Bernice."

     "Really, do you know what's bugging him? God, it's so hot in here." I tried not to be too pushy but it was killing me to find out.

     "It's not hot in here, girl, you're just going through the change."

"Well, it doesn't feel like it's a change for the better, I can tell you that. What about Jerry?"

"Well, old Jerry had a big interview yesterday for supervisor. I don't know why they even considered him, that lazy, disgusting, slime."  Bernice.

     "But they say he walked in covered in shit."  Helen.

     "No way"

     "That's right. They say he smelled so bad they had to call off the interview." Bernice.

     "Covered in it. Stunk out the whole place, they had to leave the windows open all night." Helen.

     "I even heard that the chair he sat on smelled like shit. And that he left a trail of shit wherever he walked." Bernice.

     My day was getting better by the minute.

     "What did he say? What did he tell them?"

     "That's the best part, honey. They asked him why he smelled so bad. He told them he thought it was just something in his nose, and he didn't think anyone else could smell it." Bernice.

     "That's strange, even for Jerry," I added.

     "But you didn't hear the best part." Helen started laughing so hard she had to stop. She held out her hand for me to wait, and used the other hand to slap the counter a few times.  "The panel was mostly docs. When they asked him about it, he said that some doctor named Sam Anosmia was to blame."

     Helen burst out in uncontrollable laughter, joined by Bernice. They were both laughing so much that tears ran down their cheeks. I started crying with joy.

     "Do you know what Anosmia means?"  Bernice, through the laughs. "That's what they call it when you can't smell anything."

     "He said that Dr. Anosmia couldn't smell anything on him." Helen was laughing so hard she had trouble breathing. She was taking deep quick breaths, holding one hand on her chest, the other banging against the counter top.

     "They told him that he should have come up with a better story than that."  Bernice.

     "And they're making him take a personal hygiene course."

     When I left them, they were still laughing and banging their hands on the counter.

     I sat in the car laughing for a minute, relishing my triumph that I'll only be able to share with Adam. I made a note to ask Adam about Dr. Sam Anosmia, and then I drove home with the air conditioner at full blast, humming the entire way. When I got home, I cleaned the car, showered, and changed into a fresh sports bra, t-shirt and jogging pants.

When I tried to open the front door to check the mail, however, the door wouldn’t budge. I went out the garage door and around to the steps, and found this huge package on the landing, propped up against the door. Damn thing must have weighed a hundred pounds. There was a UPS label on it and I didn’t recognize the return address, so I slid the box enough to get the door open, and then I checked the rest of the mail.

     I got back into the house and gathered a bunch of newspaper for the package.  I opened the front door all of the way, and laid out a lot of paper. Then I laid down a broomstick on top of the paper, parallel to the door.  I went back out the garage, putting on my shoes, and back to the front door. 

     The box was still on its end. I shoved it toward the door, holding it upright with all my strength until it was in the doorway and let it go.  The package flopped partially into the house, balancing on the threshold. I lifted up the rear end so the top rested on the broomstick, so I could more easily roll the heavy box into the house. I stopped halfway, though, and put more paper down, so the box didn’t actually touch the floor.

     I went back into the house from the garage, closed the front door, and took a long look at my prize. It was a cardboard box, about four feet high, two feet wide and 6 inches deep. Except for the UPS label there was no other writing.  Too big for jewelry, I figured, and two small for a new car.

     I then noticed a cloud of dark powder floating over my head, and the same powder all over the paper and the floor.  I had no idea what the powder was, only that I had a lot of cleaning to do.

     I took a box cutter, and carefully made a cut down the length, going just deep enough to cut the cardboard itself. I made two other cuts perpendicular to that, and then pulled away the cardboard on one side. As I yanked the cardboard, another cloud of dark dust almost blocked out the light.

     Inside was a huge paper bag, the same size as the box, and covered with dark powder. I had to wipe away powder from the bag before I could read the label "Low Fat Cake Mix Chocolate 50 lbs".  Finally, my free sample had arrived.

     Now I knew why the company wasn’t so happy about sending free samples. I was expecting a one-pound box, like I buy in the market. Instead, I got 50 pounds of the stuff. There was chocolate powder all over the place – on the floor and the furniture, and floating in the air toward the ceiling. Every place I stepped I left a chocolate footprint, and the bottoms of my socks were solid brown.

     I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On one hand, this must be the Nobel Prize of free stuff. One the other hand, my clean house was a mess.  What the hell was I going to do with 50 pounds of cake mix?  I figured I could use a few pounds myself to make cake, but I’d have to share the rest with friends. I couldn’t just give them some powder, though, without a recipe, and the smell of the stuff was making me rather hungry.

     Luckily, there were directions on the bag. "Pour the contents of this bag into the hopper, add five pounds of water, and mix."

     First thing I did, however, was to take off my socks. I put plastic food bags over my feet and tied them on with pieces of string.

     I then made an incision down the center of the paper bag, and used an ice cream scoop to put some of the powder into a bowl. It took me a few hours to reduce the recipe to a practical size, using one pound of powder per cake. I made two cakes and ate half of one, just to test the recipe.  When I was sure of the proportions, I wrote down the instructions. Then I got my kitchen scale, a box of plastic bags, and spent about hour making one-pound and two-pound packages that I could give away. I have one of those vacuum sealer things that pulls the air out of the bag and heat-seals the top.

Halfway through the fifty pounds, I was so hot I had to take off my t-shirt. By the time I was done, I had 28 one-pound bags and 10 two-pound bags, all nicely shaped and sealed.  I was also covered in fine chocolate powder from head to toe to match the chocolate on the floor and the furniture.

I then spent the rest of the night cleaning up. I got so hot that I had to take off my sports bra, and the combination of cake mix powder and sweat on my skin made my chest look like two gigantic cupcakes with cherries on top.  I finished cleaning the house and myself, and then called friends to find suckers who would take a pound or two off my hands. My soaps were particularly good that night; Cameron had his shirt off most of the time.

Chapter 14

     Thursday morning, I was exhausted. I had almost forgotten about Reynolds, Bruno, Chester, and the rest of the stooges, until I saw the earrings sitting on my night table. Then I got angry. I’d been dipped in blood, held against my will, followed, and threatened.  Somehow I was smashing windshields and involved with guys with no necks. All for $600 and a pair of earrings that I knew I had to return.  The only good thing to come out of all this was the shoes. So maybe it was worth it.

     But I had to do something about it.  I decided right then that the earrings would go back and that I had to have a nice talk with Reynolds.  I needed some time to do that, so I called in sick.

     "John, it's Brooke. Listen, I’m really feeling terrible. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it in today."

     "That’s terrible. What’s wrong?"

     "Well, my nose is filled with some brown stuff and I’ve been coughing up something brown since last night."  No lies there.

     "I never heard of anything like that."

     "Me neither. In fact, last night I noticed that I had patches of brown skin. They seem to be gone now, but I think I’d better stay home and see a doctor."

     "That’s a great idea. No sense spreading something around here, whatever it is.  Just let me know by closing if you’ll be in tomorrow."

     "Thanks for being so understanding. I should be fine by then, I hope. Listen, before we get off, can you tell me what business Mr. Reynolds is in?"

     John was happy to oblige, so now I had Reynolds’ business and business address. I didn’t plan on ever going back to his home, but I figured his office would be a safe place to have it out with him.

     I found the phone number in the book and called his office. His secretary said that he was in all day, but didn’t have time to fit in any more appointments.  "Thanks anyway," I said, but I had no intention of letting that stop me. 

     I took my time getting out of bed and carefully selected clothes for the mission. I picked out a very clingy red dress that started a few inches below my neck and ended a few inches above my knees. I put on a new pair of pantyhose and a pair of matching red heels, and as much gold jewelry as I could find.

I did my hair and makeup slightly on the slutty side of the scale, but not all the way up to whore, and then drenched myself in the cheapest perfume that I owned. It smelled like the inside of a cheap motel room. I wasn’t exactly sure of the look I was going for, but I wanted to make myself attractive to men – at least some men – and repellent to women.

Finally, I put on my Las Vegas set of earrings. I think they're beautiful. They hang down about three inches, with baubles of dies, playing cards, cherries, poker chips, dollar signs, and a lot more. They must weigh a few pounds and are the ultimate test of strength for any earlobe.

     I ate a bagel for breakfast, just barely able to stand my own smell, and then I drove over to the R and R Construction Company with the windows wide open.

     R and R, according to John, was the biggest commercial builder in this part of the state. They were the prime contractor for many of the casinos, the bigger malls and shopping centers, and for half of the other big projects in southern Jersey. Reynolds had a great rapport with the unions, John said, and would often get jobs even though his bids were higher than other contractors. 

     The offices were in a large brick building, in front of a fenced-in parking lot filled with massive construction vehicles. There was a small booth guarding the gate to the rear lot, but the visitor lot in front of the building was open and unguarded.

     I pulled into a spot marked "Visitor", spilled on some more perfume for good measure, and walked into the main door.

     "Can I help you?"  A very attractive, young, receptionist sat at a counter just inside the door. The area was very tastefully decorated, with leather sofas and artwork. She didn’t look very happy to see, or to smell, me.

     "I’m here to see Jason. He told me to just go right up."

     "Do you mean Mr. Reynolds? I’ll call and let him know you’re here."

     "Listen honey, I don’t think that Jason wants a lot of folks to know I’m here, if you get my drift. I just want to thank him for these fabo earrings."  I tilted my head towards her, getting real close so she got a good snout full of my perfume.

     "Well, I’ll call up and perhaps you can just leave a message." She backed up a little, so I moved in even closer.

     "Oh, that won’t do. When I give thanks, I throw my whole body into it. Know what I mean? My thank you has to be a little more personal. Jassy would be very upset if these earrings didn’t buy him, I mean get him, very personal thanks."

     I pulled a tissue out of my cleavage and blew my nose.

     "I’ll just go see him then."  I walked through the inner doors and far enough away so she wouldn’t know I was on the other side with no idea where to go.

     Finding someone in a big building like that is really no problem. You just have to walk around and ask. Once you’re past the receptionist, people figure you belong in the building and don’t challenge you. The trick is to look like you belong.  I looked like I belonged on the street, or some club, but that didn’t present a problem.

     I just kept asking for Jason’s office. Finally I found this pimply-faced guy in a cheap three-piece who volunteered to show me the way. He walked behind me all the time, giving me directions and staring at my ass, but at last he showed me a door that said Executive Offices.

     Inside that doorway, I met the official palace guard, part secretary and part pit bull. Mostly pit bull. I tried my playmate approach but it didn’t phase her one bit. Maybe she knew a little too much about the boss, or maybe she figured if she let me in she wouldn’t get her rawhide to chew on for dinner.

     "Listen, I put this dress on just for Jassy, that’s what he wants me to call him. Isn’t it cute? This is his favorite because I don’t wear underwear with it." That wasn’t a lie today.

     "Well I don’t mean to be rude,” she said, “but aren’t you a little old not to wear underwear?  Anyway, if you do not have appointment, you do not get to see Mr. Reynolds. Now if you would like to set something up..."

     "You got to be kidding." I shook my head so the earrings jangled. "Jassy just loves when I surprise him, even at the office. And Jassy likes a mature woman like me. I mean sometimes I ask my younger sister Sue to join us, but not all the time."

     Just then, an inner door opened and two men walked out. I could see Reynolds through the doorway, so I pulled up my skirt another inch or so, yelled, "Hold all his calls. Here’s your surprise Jassy" and ran into his office, slamming the door behind me.

     I don’t think Reynolds recognized me right away. He was looking at my legs, still killers even at my age, and trying to figure out where his Viagra was stored.  Then he looked at my face.

     "What the hell are you doing here? And why do you look like that?"

     "Don’t worry about what I look like, worry about what you’ll look like when I leave here."

     He started to pick up his phone, but I ran over, pulled it out of his hands and hung it up.

     "First, I want to return these earrings." I pulled them out of my bag and threw them on his desk.

     "Second, I want some answers. What the hell is going on? Why are a bunch of guys with no necks following me? What does insurance have to do with anything?"

     "What? Following you?"

     "Don’t act so innocent with me. Some jerk in a Lincoln has been following me so I broke his arm. Then his boss, Mr. No-neck with the gold jewelry dripping all over him, threatens me."

     "Mr. No-neck?"

     "Is that all you can do, is ask questions? You’re a real ignoranus."

     "What’s an ignoranus? That's not even a real word."

     "It's a guy like you who is both stupid and an ass."

     "I don’t know what you’re talking about." He started walking so I moved between him and the door. Not a smart move. I was standing there when someone pushed open the door and ran straight into my back, knocking me down, and falling on top of me.

     "Jesus, you smell," Bruno said. "How much of that stuff do you have on?"

     "Get off of me!"

     He stood up and looked at me, then his hand went to a bleeding cut on the side of his face

     "You're earrings sliced me! Those things are weapons. What are you doing here?"

     I made a mental note to clean off the earrings extra well when I got home.

     "Bruno, please escort that woman out of here."

     Then to me, "I will be in touch with you again, rest assured. This is not over."

     "What’s not over?" I screamed as Bruno hustled me out of the room.

     "Let go of me. I’ll walk out of here like a lady."

     I pulled my arm out of his grip, pulled down my skirt as far as it would go, and pulled up the neckline as far as it would go. I took off both of my shoes; the fall had made me a little wobbly.

     We didn’t go out the front door, and that made me a little worried.  We wound around a lot of hallways, and down into the basement. Now I was really worried.  Very discreetly, I put my hand in my bag and palmed my perfume bottle. I figured I could use it like mace if I had to.

     We got to a small area in the basement that looked like an office of some type, with a table and a few chairs.  Bruno pointed to a chair, which I figured in the goon language meant "have a seat."

     So I sat.

     "I don’t know what the hell you were thinking," he said. "Coming in here like that, seeing the boss. And dressed like that. And smelling like that. God, that stuff if awful."

     "I thought men found perfume sexy."

     "Sexy? You have so much on that no guy would want to be within ten feet of you."

     "Listen, can’t I just go? It's been a long day."

     "I’ll let you go in a minute, but you got to know the facts of life around here."

     "Don’t let this look fool you,” I said, "I know the facts of life."

     "When the boss gives me that look, the one he did when he told me to get you out of there, it means that I shouldn’t be so nice in doing it.  Maybe hit you, break something, and toss you out of a car or something."

     "You got all that from a look?"

     "Don’t be a smart ass."

     "Okay, go on."

     "Only thing is, I don’t strong arm women and children, unless they got a gun or knife on me or something. Never did, and never will. I promised my sainted mother. That’s why I took you down here. I wanted to give the boss time to cool off. If he’s looking out at the lot for your car, he’ll figure I was working on you a little.  In a few minutes, I’ll take you to your car and you can leave."

     "I really appreciate that Bruno. Can I call you Bruno?"

     "That’s my name, hon."

     "You have anything cold to drink down here? It's so hot."

     "Sorry, nothing. It's not hot down here. Aren't you feeling well?"

     "Just a hot spell. Do you have any idea what this is all about?"

     "Nah. I know the boss is under a lot of pressure lately. Real secretive. And he’s depressed all the time. I think he’s got money problems, but I thought that business was doing real good."