Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  “Yes?” he said bluntly.

  “Can you tell me where to find the electric meter for this house?” I said. “This is my first day on this route and I haven’t been here before.”

  Without answering me, the man turned and called over his shoulder. “Rosie,” he said. “There’s a guy here who wants to read your meter. Should I send him around to the back?”

  A woman’s voice from somewhere else in the house called back, “Yes, tell him I’ll meet him in the back yard.”

  “She’ll meet you...” the man started to say.

  “I heard,” I said. “In the back yard. Thanks.”

  Once in the back yard I found the woman who had called out to the man. She stood still on a patch of grass behind her house. She was already pointing as I approached. I nodded and crouched down, writing some figures on my clipboard. I stood up again. “Thank you,” I said. “By the way, would you know when your neighbor will be home? I need to read that meter as well and there’s no one there.”

  Without answering me, the woman opened her back door and yelled, “Kenny, this guy wants to read your meter, too. You want me to just send him over or did you want to go with him?”

  “Wait a minute,” Kenny answered. “I’ll walk over there with him.”

  The man I’d spoken to a minute earlier came out the back door and didn’t really look at my face. He walked right by me, muttering something about following him next door. He was carrying a rocks glass with some amber liquid in it. I didn’t think it was tea. When we got to his back yard, he stood near a spot next to his back stoop. “Right here,” he said, pointing down at the ground.

  This was my chance, I thought. After I wrote some figures on my clipboard, I started to get up and purposely lost my balance, falling onto my back near his stoop. I moaned and winced and finally looked up at the man standing over me.

  “Are you all right?” Kenny said, reaching down to help me to my feet.

  “I think so,” I said. “Can you help me up?”

  “Hold on a second,” Kenny said, setting his rocks glass down and bending over to grab my hand.

  I didn’t help him much, letting him pull my dead weight up off the ground until I was standing again. I brushed myself off, picked up my clipboard and looked at Kenny. “Thanks,” I said. “I guess I got tangled up in my own feet.”

  Without expression, Kenny said, “Are you done here? I have to get back to Rosie’s place.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I got what I came for. Thanks again.” I walked around to the front of the house, down the pink driveway and up the street to the corner. I waved back at the van and Gloria drove ahead to pick me up.

  “Well?” she said when I got back into the van.

  “He’s faking it,” I said, and told her about my phony fall behind Fulton’s house.

  “So, now all we have to do is prove it,” Gloria said. “Any idea how we’re going to do that?”

  “I’ve got a wild idea,” I said. “I’m not sure how practical it is or if it’ll work, but it’s worth a try.”

  “What have you got in mind?” Gloria said.

  “Suppose we drive over to the appliance store and get us an empty refrigerator box,” I said. “Then we can stop by the second hand store for a refrigerator to put in it. Can’t be more than five or ten bucks for some clunker.”

  “I don’t get it,” Gloria said. “So you put some piece of junk refrigerator in a new box. Once he opens it, he’ll see that it’s junk.”

  “Right,” I said, “but by then he’ll have moved it, most likely to his garage and we’ll be able to get a video of him obviously not incapacitated.”

  “Where are you going to leave the box?” Gloria said.

  “We can just drop it in his driveway,” I said. “He’ll have to somehow get it from there to the garage or the house.”

  “And what’ll be your excuse for leaving it with him?” Gloria said.

  “We’ll just have to wing it,” I said. “We’ll think of something between then and now.”

  We drove to the appliance store and the manager was happy to let us take one of the boxes. It was one less box that he had to dispose of. The second hand shop on Melrose had just what we needed in a used refrigerator. I pulled my van around to the back of the store and moved the refrigerator out into the alley. We slipped the new box over the top and taped it shut. Gloria helped me lay the box down on the floor of the van and we lifted it up and slid it in just far enough to tape the bottom of the box shut and then slid it all the way in.

  “That should do it,” I said. “Put on your thinking cap and come up with some good ruse that Fulton will swallow.”

  We rode in silence for the next few blocks before Gloria offered her suggestion. “We tell him his name was drawn at the mall and he won the refrigerator,” she said.

  “We?” I said. “He’s already seen me. I can help drop it off, but you’ll have to talk to him while I wait in the truck. I’m sure all it would take is a smile from you to convince him. Hell, when I got to the second house he was already inside with the woman who lives there. If he doesn’t answer the door, try the house next to his.”

  Gloria and I pulled up to the curb just beyond Fulton’s driveway and quickly unloaded the huge box. I told Gloria I was going to pull the van around the block and come in from the other direction so I could take the video of Fulton moving the refrigerator. Once we had the box standing in the driveway, I drove off and left Gloria to work her magic.

  I circled the block, turning around in the driveway of a gas station. I parked half a block from Fulton’s house and sat poised with my video camera. It had a twelve times zoom on it and I could capture the entire driveway from where I sat.

  Gloria walked up the walk to Fulton’s house and rang the doorbell. No one answered. She tried again with the same results. She walked over to the neighbor’s house and tried her doorbell. When the woman came to the door Gloria went into her act. “Excuse me,” she told the woman. “I’m looking for your neighbor, Mr. Fulton,” she said. “Would you know when he might be home?”

  The woman had no better manners that Fulton and simply called over her shoulder, “Kenny, there’s someone here looking for you.”

  “Who is it?” Kenny yelled back.

  “I don’t know,” the woman called back. “Come and see for yourself.” She walked away, leaving Gloria standing on the stoop.

  Fulton appeared at the door and looked at Gloria suspiciously. “Now what do you want?” he said.

  Gloria looked down at her clipboard. “Are you Kenny Fulton?” she said.

  “Who wants to know?” Fulton said.

  “I have a delivery for you,” Gloria said. “It’s in your driveway. I just need you to sign for it.”

  “A delivery?” Fulton said. “I didn’t order anything. What is it?”

  “Hell, I don’t know,” Gloria said. “I’m only supposed to get a signature, but from the looks of the box, I’d say it’s a refrigerator.”

  “A refrigerator?” Fulton said. “I know I sure as hell didn’t buy any refrigerator. Take it back where you got it.”

  Gloria glanced at the clipboard again. “You’re right,” she told Fulton. “You didn’t buy it. You won it in a drawing at the mall. It’s free.”

  Fulton looked Gloria over, trying to decide if she was pulling some kind of scam. “I didn’t enter any drawing at the mall,” he said.

  “Well, somebody put your name in the drawing,” Gloria said. “I guess I could take it back and give it to someone else if you don’t want it. You could always sell it and keep the money, but if you really don’t want it, I could...”

  “Where do you want me to sign?” Fulton said.

  Gloria turned the clipboard around and presented some phony form for Fulton to sign. Once he had signed, Gloria turned and walked away. Fulton closed the door and that was all the time Gloria needed to make it up the block and around the corner. When she was sure he wasn’t following her, she made her way across the st
reet and into the van.

  “Did he go for it?” I said as Gloria took her seat next to me.

  “I guess so,” she said. “I got his signature and he’s got the box. It shouldn’t be long now before he comes out to get it.”

  Gloria was right. Less than a minute after Gloria got into the van, Fulton came out of his neighbor’s house and hurried over to his driveway. He walked around the box, looking at all four sides and patting the side of the box. I could easily capture his wide grin as he realized his recent windfall.

  I kept the video camera aimed on Fulton and waited for him to make his move. He rushed to his back yard, returned with a coaster wagon and left it sitting alongside the refrigerator box. Then he walked back over to his neighbor’s house and returned with the woman at his side.

  “This is it,” I told Gloria. “Watch.”

  Fulton’s neighbor hung onto the handle of the coaster wagon, making sure it didn’t move while Fulton grabbed the top of the box and lowered it by himself onto the edge of the wagon. Then he went around to the back or of the box and lifted it up onto the wagon, sliding it further on as he did. Then he traded places with the woman, who held her hands on top of the box while Fulton took the handle of the wagon and pulled the huge box up his slightly inclined driveway and back toward the garage.

  Once he was no longer in my viewfinder, I stopped recording and turned to Gloria. “Got him,” I said. “That should do it. Let’s get back to Crawford and tell him what we have.”

  “Can we get some lunch first?” Gloria said.

  “Sure,” I said. “Any place in particular?”

  “We haven’t been to Oscar’s in a while,” she said. “I always liked their pizza and pasta.”

  “Works for me,” I said and headed in that direction. “What made you think of Oscar’s?” I said.

  “Because it was on last night,” Gloria explained.

  “This pizza place had a commercial on television last night?” I said.

  “No,” Gloria said. “The Oscars were on last night. Didn’t you watch it?”

  “As much of a movie fan as I am,” I said, “I just can’t stand watching the Oscar presentations.”

  “Why not?” Gloria said.

  “Because what should be a one-hour show is always stretched out to three and a half hours,” I said. “They waste so much time with dance numbers and retrospectives that almost no one cares about. I swear they throw in all that extra crap so they can sell more commercials in between. I’ll bet if you edited out all the non-essential stuff from the Oscars, you could actually get it all covered in thirty minutes or less.”

  “Can’t sell many commercials in thirty minutes,” Gloria said. “And I would imagine it costs quite a lot to produce a show like that.”

  “A thirty minute show wouldn’t cost much,” I explained. “Here’s how I’d do it, if I had the final say. I’d announce the five semi-finalists for best picture, rip the envelope open and blurt out the name of the movie. I’d limit the number of people who could come up on stage to one—the producer. He’d get ten seconds to thanks whomever he thinks needs mass approval and then get out the ol’ shepherd’s hook and drag his ass off stage if he goes over the ten second mark.”

  “Oh yeah,” Gloria said. “There’s a show I’d want to watch. Sounds like a regular Oscar show that you’d watch in the fast-forward mode.”

  “Precisely,” I said. “And what’s more, I’d eliminate all those obscure categories like ‘Best original adaptation of a second-hand screenplay by a first-time recovering junkie writing on a 1959 Underwood portable typewriter with just one hand.’ And is it necessary to include a category for best caterer for an on-location film?”

  “You’re making that up now,” Gloria said. “They don’t have a category like that.”

  “Maybe not,” I said, “but they have so many obscure categories that no one cares about so why include them? And there should be no more awards for foreign films or any film with sub-titles. Let those countries put on their own awards show.”

  “I can see you’d never make it as a show business producer,” Gloria said.

  “I would if the typical audience member wasn’t some brain-dead, shallow, superficial zombie,” I said. “I mean really, who cares what the actresses are wearing to the event? All the guys have the same black and white tuxedo on and no one stops them on their way in to ask where they rented it. See, that’s why guys are and will always be more practical and women will always be more emotional about everything. When the show’s over, guys return the tux to the rental shop and get their deposit back. Women have to buy those over-priced, over-glittered, under-wired monstrosities and they’re stuck with them when the show’s over. And heaven forbid they be seen anywhere a second time in that same dress. Oh no.”

  “Are you about done?” Gloria said. “Do you have to be so negative about everything?”

  “Only when I see something that doesn’t make common sense or is totally impractical,” I said. “But then that’s just me...and most other guys as well.”

  “You know what?” Gloria said. “How about we skip Oscar’s pizza and pasta and just hit the drive-thru at Mickey Dee’s? That’s more your speed anyway. And it’s far more practical than a sit-down lunch in a place with a little atmosphere.”

  “See?” I said. “You’re starting to think like a logical man already. Good going, Gloria. I’m proud of you.”

  “Put a sock in it, Elliott,” Gloria said.

  I could tell by the look in her eye that I’d better quit while I was ahead. I drove to Oscar’s pizza and pasta anyway to keep the peace between us. We managed to get through lunch without any further discussion about the Oscars and that was just fine with me. I switched the topic of conversation to our client.

  “Mr. Crawford’s going to be pleased with our findings,” I said. “You must have really convinced Fulton that this was his lucky day. You’re quite the little actress, Mrs. Cooper.”

  Gloria faked a smile and nodded. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she said.

  “And is it working?” I said.

  “That all depends on whether or not you’ve learned anything from this last half hour,” Gloria said.

  “I think I have,” I said.

  “And what’s that?” Gloria said.

  I paused, took a deep breath and said, “That if I have any negative opinions about some subject that it would be best to keep them to myself? Is that about what you were thinking?”

  “Pretty much,” Gloria said. “I’m not saying you can’t have a negative opinion about everything. But if you know it’s something I like, that would be the time to hold your tongue, okay?”

  “I think I can manage that,” I said. “Does the same hold true for you?”

  “What do you mean, Elliott?” Gloria said.

  “Well,” I said, “for example, when you read the paper or watch the news on TV and you hear about another bonehead play the president made or something stupid that he did, could you please keep that to yourself as well?”

  Gloria stopped chewing and stared at me. She held up one finger, took a drink from her glass, swallowed and cleared her throat. “But he makes so many of them,” she said. “I’d make positive comments if just once the guy did something that made sense.”

  “Point well taken,” I said, “but those are also negative comments and I’m not too thrilled to be within earshot when the mood hits you.”

  “That bad?” Gloria said.

  I nodded. “Looks like we’ll both have to rein ourselves in from time to time,” I said. “Deal?” I stuck my hand out toward her.

  “Deal,” Gloria said, grabbing my hand and pumping it once before releasing it. “Now let’s finish our lunch and go see Mr. Crawford.”

  We left the restaurant and drove back to the office. Gloria gave me an odd look as I pulled into the lot behind our building.

  “What are we doing here?” she said. “I thought we were going to see Crawford and give him the go
od news.”

  “Tomorrow morning will be soon enough,” I said. “Make him feel like he’s getting his money’s worth. If we wrap this whole thing up in one day and hand it to him he could start to get the idea that the job was too easy and that he might have been able to handle it himself.”

  “So what?” Gloria said. “He signed a contract with us for our services. Either way he has to pay us.”

  “But I’d like him to feel good about our services even after he leaves,” I said.

  “And two day’s pay is better than one, isn’t it?” Gloria said.

  “There’s that, too,” I said. “You know, we should revise out contracts to include a minimum charge for our services to cover the easy jobs that can be finished in a day or less.”

  “I’ll take care of it first thing tomorrow,” Gloria said, “but for today, how about if we go see Crawford and give him the evidence that he needs to fight that loser in court?”

  “All right,” I said, not wanting to start another argument.” I pulled back out of our lot and drove east on the boulevard. I took Vine Street south to Romaine and turned west. Crawford’s house was just a few blocks away and we were lucky enough to catch him at home. I parked the van in front of the white single-story house with the red trim. I retrieved my laptop from the back of the van, pulled the miniature card from my video camera and inserted it into the slot on the side of the laptop. I carried it with me as Gloria and I approached the front door.

  Kevin Crawford must have been watching out the front window when we pulled up because the front door opened before I had time to ring the bell. Crawford was already smiling when he saw us.

  “Did you get it already?” he said anxiously.

  I held the laptop out in front of me. “I think we did,” I said. “Did you want to take a look at what we got?”

  “You bet,” Crawford said. “Come on in and have a seat. Would either of you like something to drink?”

  “No thanks,” I said. “We just came from a late lunch. Thanks anyway.”