Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted by Denise, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.
Prompt word:
PITCH
Hazel followed me into my office, a steno pad and pencil in one hand and the kind of aggressive empathy shy teenagers and terminal-ward seniors dream of.
My desk was old oak, cigarette scarred and nacre’d with the bills and other postal detritus that did not stop simply because I fell off the edge of the world for a few days, like they say nature abhors neatness.
Sitting down I noticed a single sheet of paper in the middle of a clearing in the center of my desk; a professional call sheet similar to what attorneys might employ in support of a compiling billable hours. Date and time, who was called and a synopsis of the conversation, all in twelve-point Times New Roman however, some entries also had hand-written notes in green ink, a certain admin-slash receptionist’s favorite color.
The entries conveyed an escalation of concern as to my whereabouts, simple, orderly, and professional for the first three-quarters of a page at any rate:
- Gym manager had no idea, but began to pitch his Special on Deluxe Lifetime membership; promised to call if he came in;
- Neighbor reported not seeing him leave for office in the morning for previous three days didn’t think anything of it; {three fuckin’ days nothin unusual?!!}
- None of the attorney-clients have received any form of communication in the last few days {like they’d say anything, the litigious bastards}
- City hospital emergency room said no one fitting his description have been admitted {good thing for everyone, on that}
- Police had no reports involving him, no accident reports at any rate;
- … Bottom of the Sea Strip Club and Lounge, nice woman, Diane said she would look into it {believed her, note to confidential Management file, keep tabs of her relationship to him}
- call from the Bottom of the Sea Strip Club and Lounge, the owner, Lou Caesare, promised to have some of his associates look into the matter, offered the opinion, ‘He’s a standup guy, for a civilian and if someone was causing, ‘his pet straight-and-narrow detective trouble, they might live to regret it’ Laughing, Lou hung up but not before I could hear, “Get out there now and shake down whoever ya gotta shake down,” {useful guy to be on the good side of}
With a smile half-dangerous and totally enjoyable to be the recipient of, Hazel sat in one of the two plain wood chairs in front of my desk, crossed her legs into a carnal picket line and said, “The ‘he’ in my notes refers to you, right,” and immediately rode the interrogative lilt into laughter that made me feel happy to be home.
*
About clarkscottroger
Oh yes, very much liking Hazel.
And another thought… when I was an underwriter (many years ago) I was not allowed to use a green biro. No sir, never!
ikr?
funny, back in the day, way long ago, blue was the only acceptable color ink for signing sales agreement (for the ‘and we walked two miles a day to school’ sense ’cause copy machines copied in black and white only!)
Black ink and black pen —only and always.
Ink colours, a fascinating study: Never red ink, which is a no-no, because it’s linked to the spirit world, making it taboo to write living people’s names in red (it implies wishing death upon them). It was also used to sign ancient death warrants, tying it to finality. Green is associated with calling the recipient a fool. Purple ink = mourning or bad luck, and brown is always avoided for formal writing. *
Hazel, a fascinating character I look forward to knowing well.
* I’m a social anthropologist —I can’t help myself.
I did not know that (the broad expanse of lore relating to color… kinda a blind spot, like with poetry ;p)
as I mentioned to Chris, for me in business while blue was the compensation for b&w only copiers… we were all taught (informally of course) that red ink was totally inappropriate, at least when trying to people to buy stuff
Nice phrase: “nature abhors neatness” It reminds me of the mess entropy makes.
It sounds like Hazel did her own research to find out where he was.
yeah, a good admin… (lifted it from ‘Nature abhors a vacuum’)
All’s well that ends well but no doubt they’ll be something else our Detective Devereaux becomes embroiled in. But hey, he not only has one, but two, extremely capable, alluring women who always has his back.
Sweet Six.
(I know, guys never want “sweet” ascribed to them or their writing, lol)
ty
Hazel is also someone you want “to be on the good side of.”
I concur
I always am partial to Lou.
Thank you
I wonder how it feels to be so loved someone- anyone would go to those lengths to find you….
ikr?
Interesting episode. Never a dull one for Ian.
ty