Skin Puppet

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Skin Puppet Page 6

by Jeffery Craig


  “Pwotect my head…”

  Jon grinned in agreement, and Melba’s stomach gave a lurch when he shifted her way. He met her eyes briefly and, when he turned away without further comment, she was inexplicably hurt. After another moment, he rose to his feet. “Auntie, unless you have anything further, I think we all must get ready for the rest of the day.” Zhou Li nodded her agreement and he held out a hand to help her up.

  “No, go on ahead. I believe I will sit here for a moment longer, Jon.”

  “As you wish, Auntie Zhou. Lindsi, if you have a minute, I’d like to talk about the classes I think you should join. If you’ll follow me back to the office, I think we can get you squared away in no time.”

  Lindsi hopped to her feet and followed Jon out of the studio.

  After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Toby levered himself off the floor. “You coming, Melba? I don’t know about you, but I need another shower.”

  “Not yet, Toby. Why don’t you head on up to your apartment, and I’ll meet you across the street in a little while? I’ll take advantage of the showers in the office, and then we can talk about everything on the agenda for the rest of the week.”

  He shot a puzzled glance her way. “Sure. I should be over there in about thirty minutes or so.”

  After he left the room, Melba forced herself to ask the question that had been on her mind for the last few minutes. “Why didn’t Jon tell me what he learned about me?” When she received no response, she was ready with her follow-up. “Why didn’t you ask me what I learned today?”

  Zhou Li made no attempt to pretend she didn’t understand the question. “I cannot answer for Jon. For myself…I already knew the answer. You learned to give in when there was no need to be strong, and to rest when there was no good reason to fight.”

  Melba thought about the words and then nodded. “Okay. That’s pretty spot on. But…how did you know?”

  “Because, my dear, I have had to learn the same thing, and relearn it time and time again. I did learn one additional thing…”

  “Which is…?”

  Zhou Li grinned. “I learned you are truly almost as stubborn as I am.”

  Melba groaned as she hoisted herself to her feet. “Well…that’s only fair,” she replied as she walked a few feet across the wooden floor.

  “What do you mean by that comment?”

  “I figure you have many more years of mulish, contrary behavior behind you than I do.”

  The tiny woman nodded. “You are correct. Old age has its benefits.”

  Melba snorted and reached out a hand. “Would you like some help up off that hard floor?”

  One small hand reached up and griped her fingers tightly. “Thank you, my dear. I would indeed.” After she was settled on her feet, she gave another gentle squeeze of her hand. “Was there anything else you learned?”

  “Yep.”

  Madame Zhou pursed her lips impatiently when Melba didn’t offer any further details. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her and she let out a sigh of exasperation. “Well? What was it?”

  Melba finally leaned down and answered. “I learned…bamboo is hard on the butt!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The next two days passed uneventfully. Melba and Toby usually made their way across the street after the meditation and sparring sessions to work on the last items needing to be dealt with before they opened. Melba guessed if there were a few things left hanging, it probably wouldn’t matter that much. After all, no one was knocking down the doors to solicit their professional services yet.

  They did have a few clients signed, mostly corporate work thrown their way by a few of Madame Zhou’s business connections, but it was pretty straightforward activity involving background checks of new employees. A few local law firms had also retained them to handle any investigations needed related to their domestic case work, but that wouldn’t start until they officially opened for business. Not a bad start, but certainly not anything to write home about.

  Wednesday morning was spent tossing around new ideas to bring in a larger volume of business and, by mid-afternoon, both Toby and Melba were pretty wrung out with all of the brainstorming. Both of the white boards were filled with a variety of action items, but things had degraded to an exchange of juvenile jokes and an impromptu paper airplane fight. SarahJune gave up in disgust.

  Melba leaned back in her chair and absently tapped a pencil on the edge of her empty cup while studying the white board and letting Toby pick up the scattered remnants of the fierce air battle from the office floor. She noticed him tucking the crumpled paper examples of aerodynamic design into a desk drawer.

  “Why are you keeping those?”

  “I figure we’ll need them again before too much longer. I suspect we’ll have more than a few afternoons like this, and there’s no sense in wasting paper to make new ones.”

  Before Melba had a chance to answer, the front entry bell rang, and Madame Zhou’s voice called out from the reception room.

  “Toby? I could use some help if you have a moment.”

  Toby looked at his partner, eyebrows raised in question. “Did we have a meeting I forgot about?”

  Melba quickly checked her calendar, and after finding the afternoon free, shrugged. “Not that I know of. I wonder what she wants?”

  He shrugged and headed to the front. “Coming, Madame Zhou.”

  A few minutes later, Zhou tottered into the back room, trailed by Toby with his arms full of what looked like stationery boxes. Melba quickly relieved him of some of them while their visitor pulled out one of the guest chairs and took a seat. She gently set her handbag on the floor beside her.

  Toby deposited his burden on his desk. “Those sure are heavier than they look! You didn’t carry those across the street by yourself did you, Madame Zhou?”

  “No, dear. Lindsi helped, but had to hurry on to help Bernice close the café. I asked her to stack them by the front door—just where you found them. You wouldn’t happen to have any hot water ready, would you? I think a nice cup of tea might be just the thing for this unseasonably cool weather.”

  “Sure. The new coffee pot automatically keeps water hot all the time, which is handy with as much tea as Melba drinks. You want some, Melba?”

  “No, I think I’ve had plenty today. But make sure you bring the water in the special mug I picked up for Madame Zhou.”

  Toby grinned and left the room. He didn’t bother asking what kind of tea their visitor—and not so silent partner—would like, since he knew she traveled everywhere with her own blend.

  “You purchased a special cup for me, dear?”

  “Well, not a cup…exactly. The last time I went up to visit Abby and the girls, we stopped at a street festival to look at the handmade crafts. I picked out mugs for Toby and me, and found one I couldn’t resist for you.”

  “I see. Am I to understand you bought me a…mug?”

  Melba had to work hard to stifle the snort building in reaction to Zhou’s emphasis on the word. The persnickety woman had probably never deigned to use a mug in her entire life. “Yes. It’s a very special mug. The minute I saw it, I knew that it had been created with you in mind.”

  “Well, that was very thoughtful of you.”

  Toby rejoined them, carrying a small tray covered with a hand towel. He placed it on the desk in front of Madame Zhou and then ceremoniously counted to three and whipped the towel away. “Ta da!”

  The office was filled with silence as Zhou Li carefully examined the item in front of her. This mug was a deep, vibrant green. A coiled dragon was flawlessly executed in three-dimensional, textured clay and curved and curled itself around the outside of the cup. Each of the dragon’s scales was expertly detailed and glazed in an iridescent finish. There were two handles, perfectly spaced on each side of the vessel, to make gripping easy for small, elderly hands. Each of the claws had five toes, clearly emphasizing the fantastical creature’s imperial nature. Perched on the dragon’s snout was a pair o
f wide, black-rimmed eyeglasses which bore a striking resemblance to Zhou’s own.

  Both Melba and Toby waited expectantly for a reaction, but were disappointed when Zhou Li reached down by her chair and picked up her vintage Kelly purse. She snapped it open and took out a single teabag and placed it in the mug to let it steep. She placed her purse back on the floor and leaned back in her chair with her hands folded on her lap. “I am sure you are both wondering why I stopped by this afternoon and what is in the boxes Toby kindly retrieved from the front a few moments ago.”

  Melba pushed down the hurt she felt at the reaction—or lack thereof—to her gift and pasted what she hoped was a convincing expression of interest on her face. While she searched for words, Toby gave her a sympathetic smile and jumped in.

  “You don’t need a reason to stop by, Madame Zhou. But, I have to admit, I’m curious about what’s in the boxes.”

  “Thank you, Toby. Today, I did have a specific reason for stopping by. The boxes—they are full of invitations.”

  “Invitations? For what?”

  “Why, for the grand opening, of course.”

  Toby shot his partner a confused glance, and Melba shrugged in answer. She had absolutely no idea what Zhou Li was talking about, but was starting to get an awful feeling. “What grand opening?”

  “The grand opening for Reightman and Bailey Agency. I would have thought that would be obvious to you.”

  “I really hadn’t planned on having a grand opening and we never discussed the idea. I thought we’d just keep things somewhat low-key.”

  Zhou leaned forward to check on her tea and gave the bag a dunk or two to hurry it along. For an instant, it almost appeared that her finger lingered on one of the brightly painted scales, but Melba wasn’t completely sure. Before she could properly process her suspicion, Zhou wiggled back deeper into her chair. “Well, I am sure we must have discussed it, at some point. Early yesterday, it occurred to me that somehow it must have slipped all of our minds, and that will never do. It is critically important that we announce this venture appropriately. Once I realized how little time we had left to pull this off correctly, I spent the day pulling names and addresses together. You will find the list in one of the stationery boxes. I have already secured Bernice’s agreement that Earth Fruits will cater the event for us, so there won’t really be any fuss. All that needs to be done is to address the envelopes and get them in the mail. And, of course, for us all to find something to wear. Toby, I assume you own a suit?”

  “Yes, Madame Zhou, I have a couple. Is this going to be fancy?”

  “No, not terribly fancy, but it will be important to look our best. I anticipate many of the city’s most prominent law firms and social leaders will make an appearance, if for no other reason than curiosity. I am sure this event will allow you both to make more connections and may even result in a couple of tidy pieces of business for this new enterprise.”

  Melba ventured a single look in Zhou’s direction and knew there was no point in arguing. There never was, once the old woman got something into her head. The best thing to do was to just go along with the plan. After all, it was no big deal to slap some labels on a few envelopes and drop them off at the post office. “Okay, then. It seems like you have things well underway. Let’s see what we’ve got here. Hand me one of those boxes, Toby.”

  Toby lifted the top box off of his desk and brought it around to her.

  Melba removed one of the invitations from the box and placed it on the desk in front of her, gingerly. These kinds of events really weren’t her thing—at all. “Wow…this looks really nice.”

  The invitation was on a single piece of heavy cream-colored paper, and the text on the front appeared to be slightly raised. The script was pretty straight forward, giving the date, time, and location, along with instructions to RSVP “Regrets Only.” The envelopes exactly matched the invitations.

  “These look pretty fancy to me. How did you get them done so fast?” she asked. “I would have guessed these would take weeks to get done.”

  “Normally, they would,” Zhou agreed. “However, the nice young printer down on Senate Street owed me a favor, and since he rents his business premises from me, he was anxious to please. I had to compromise with printed text instead of engraved. Engraving would have been much more the thing, but there simply was not enough time to get that done, no matter how I cajoled the young man. Given the circumstances, I had no option other than to reconcile myself with common embossing, even though I promised him he could have the business of designing and printing the firm’s letterhead.”

  “Here’s the mailing list, Melba,” Toby announced, handing her several sheets of printer paper.

  She put the outstanding matter of the firm’s letterhead aside as she took the pages from him. She scanned them quickly, noting the names of several of the city’s most prominent business leaders and more than a few social lions. After flipping through the first couple of pages, she sighed and put the sheets down on her desk. “Do you have an electronic file for these, Madame Zhou?”

  “Of course I do, dear. It would be very tedious to keep it up to date otherwise. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, if you can send it to us, it will make printing labels a snap. We won’t have to create a new spreadsheet, which could take a considerable amount of time.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. It would be very bad form to send invitations to an event like this with printed labels. It would just be a single step up from junk mail.”

  Melba felt the beginning of a headache. “How do you propose we address them, then?”

  “They must be handwritten.” When both of the erstwhile investigators started to protest, she raised one slender hand. “Now, there is certainly no reason to worry. I have noticed over the past several months that you both have very acceptable penmanship, and I am sure SarahJune does as well. With all three of you working, it won’t take any time at all. After all, they don’t need to be in the mail until tomorrow evening.”

  “Tomorrow evening?” Toby asked, dismayed at the task ahead. He looked at the box in front of Melba and at the other three stacked on his desk and then folded his arms across his chest. “Exactly how many invitations are there in these boxes?”

  Madame Zhou checked her tea bag again and—satisfied with the brewing progress—discarded it, tossing it into the small trash receptacle under Melba’s desk. She lifted her mug carefully with both hands and took a sip of the beverage. She briefly closed her eyes to concentrate on the flavors and sighed with satisfaction. “Yes. I think this batch is closer to what I imagined.” She opened her eyes and looked from one expectant face to the other. “I am sorry. What was your question, Toby?”

  “How many invitations are there?”

  “I believe there are two hundred and fifty in each box, so that must make it right at a thousand.”

  Toby quietly mouthed the words ‘one thousand’ as he sunk down onto his chair. He glared dejectedly at the boxes then visibly straightened his shoulders. “Okay then. I think it’s manageable. If Melba, SarahJune, you, and I all work on these tomorrow, we should be able to get them done. We can each take a box.”

  Zhou Li took a sip of her tea before shaking her head sadly. “You will have to count me out, Toby. You see, I never had the best cursive and it has only degraded further with age. I can probably commit to twenty-five or so if I select recipients well-known to me—I am sure they will excuse my handwriting based on a personal relationship—but more than that will be beyond me.”

  Before Toby could respond, Melba interrupted, “We’ll get it done, Toby. It’s just a few lines on each envelope.”

  “Don’t forget about the return address,” Zhou reminded her. “I have always thought it looked very nice to add those on the back flap. That way, the front does not look so crowded.”

  “Absolutely not!” Melba exploded. She held up her hands to cut off any further discussion. “As much as I don’t want to admit it, I can kind of se
e your point about hand-addressing these. If nothing else, they’re less likely to be tossed into the trash before they’re opened. However, there’s just no way we can write return addresses on each envelope. There simply isn’t enough time, no matter how nice it would look. You’ll just have to be happy with printed labels.”

  Zhou Li chewed the inside of her lip while she considered the situation. “I suppose you are correct,” she finally agreed in a despondent tone. “It is just disappointing. After all the thought and hard work I have put into this, I hate the idea of a tacky label.” She gave a pitiful little sigh, although she ruined the effect somewhat by peering over the top of her glasses to gauge their response.

  Melba rolled her eyes, but Toby was suckered in.

  “How about we ask this printer of yours to design us something special to put on the back? It would look nicer than a white label, and if we kept it simple, he might be able to get it done in time.”

  Zhou Li clapped her little hands in delight. “What a good idea, Toby! I knew there was an acceptable compromise. In fact, now that I think about it…” she reached down to her vintage purse and withdrew a small package and placed it on the desk in front of her, “I think these will be acceptable.”

  Melba picked up the small package and opened it carefully, revealing stacks of return address labels which had obviously been custom-designed to match the envelopes. Printed in raised ink on each of them was what appeared to be a small logo, their business name, address, and phone number. There was also a web address. “Since when do we have a logo, or a website?”

  Zhou had the grace to look slightly abashed. “Well, he is a very earnest young man and is trying so hard to make a go of things. He suggested the logo when I placed the order for the invitation and he…well, he also manages domains and runs a hosting business as a sort of sideline…”

 

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