Maxine's New Life Ch. 06

After my shower, I took a big chance and stepped onto the bathroom scale from Goodwill. I didn't want to know my weight enough to pay retail for one of those lying bastards, but I did spring for five bucks. My weight was still down to 110 lbs which gave me ten pounds before I hit the ideal top weight for my height. I was really pissed that those last ten pounds from the trip came right from my boobs. Oh well, I guess you can't choose where you lose weight any more than you can choose your shoe size.

To be perfectly honest, I looked out the window and missed seeing the motorbike. It would be totally useless in my real life, but it had been a blast. I looked around the kitchen area trying to decide what to do about breakfast.

I checked the open metal shelves and found something I had bought at the farmer's market, the one behind the recreation center. The old cardboard box read Milky Way candy bars, but it really contained a dozen bags of cereal. Actually it contained a dozen bags of granola. In the case of that granola, it was three kinds of cereal mixed with at least three kinds of dried fruit. The real reason I bought it was that it was that it also contained a good version of dried milk. The directions said to add water and Microwave the mess. Since I hadn't tried it before, I decided that it was time.

I was really optimistic, but then I also figured anything with fruit and that much brown sugar couldn't be too awful and I was right. The granola and black coffee was a hit with me. I sat at my metal tool bench and ate my granola, while the TV told me all the national news.

One of the things I had learned in the Air Force was that the national news was usually wrong at best. At worst, some intelligence service somewhere was planting it. The best the national news could do for Joe Citizen was scare the hell out of him for no real reason.

After breakfast I walked around the minivan trying to decide where to put the signs. I decided that I needed to forget that until I had a consult with a sign maker.

16 signs.. signs ... everywhere a sign

I carried the remains of my coffee pot from home to the office. I sipped on that while the office Mr. Coffee worked its magic. Ed brought his fancy coffee in the designer label cup through the door just before 9 AM. I had already been doing research for the sign project. I had even left a message for Jen asking what I had to do to be legal. The sign was subterfuge, but I didn't want the county tax people to have their noses out of joint.

I had no idea when I might hear from her, so I moved on to considering a sign painter. I actually looked in the yellow pages and on line for a contact number. There were two in Aster, so I had a local choice. Nothing about either made a big impression on me. That being the case, I had waited for Ed to arrive.

"Hey, Ed," I said, with a hearty smile, "What do you know about sign painters."

"Actually nobody really paints signs anymore. Some computer geek prints them or has his computer cut the letters out and he just assembles it."

"That's more than I needed to know. What I meant was, who should I call to have a sign made for the Minivan?"

"Michael Burke did my sign for me. I guess he did a good job, and if I remember right, the price was okay."

"Knowing you, Ed, the price was terrific. You haven't paid the full retail price for anything since I have shared this office with you."

"I'm careful," he said smiling.

"Okay, Michael Burke it is." I made the call. Burke was actually at his phone. He was the first person who I had found in on the Tuesday morning.

"Sure, I can swing by on my way to install a sign for the Plaza Center. I have to meet the electrician there at 11 AM. I can be at your place around 10:30, if that's okay?"

"That would be just fine. I need to get a little legal advice, but I would like to be sitting on dead ready when I have it."

"Good, see you then."

"So you are going to give the thug a run for his money. You have all my business and all my friends' business as well."

"Not so fast, let's make sure Lucas and I can do it first. I have a lot of things to get lined up." "If you want to do it, you will do it. I know you, Max. Nothing stops you when you put your mind to it."

"Gee, I wish I was the person you all think I am." I smiled when I said. I paused a few minutes to think what I should do next. "Ed, what time does Lucas usually show up?"

"About anytime he wants. There wasn't much to do around here. He did carry your cell phone home with him, so he worked about whenever he wanted, or at least whenever he could."

"Okay, I'll keep an eye out for him. At least he left me the phone, so I'm back in business." I also found the note with three names attached to a stack of tri-folded, blue wrapped, sheets of papers. Anyone could tell by looking that they were lawyer's papers awaiting service. I took a look at the dates. The oldest was not quite a week old so they weren't too bad. On the note was written the dates of the attempts to serve and the results.

After the sign painter leaves, I will have to deal with these, I thought. In the meantime I just sat there in a stupor drinking coffee. I had other things to think about before Lucas and I could really begin to work. I began by making myself a shopping list. It wasn't for a pound of sugar though. The first item was plastic wire ties. Those were a poor man's handcuffs. Best of all you could buy them at Home Depot. Not so the taser that I needed for the kid, or even the pepper spray. Those I had to go at least into Tryon to purchase. There were two possibilities there, an army and navy store, and a gun shop. Both would carry the gas and maybe the stun gun type taser. I wasn't so sure about the taser gun, should I decide to go that route, I had no idea where to look. Even that wasn't the huge issue, because I had to have a couple of bulletproof vests and some radio equipment. Those were the major items.

Best I could tell, the vests were going to run about 3 bucks each. I needed two of them. Then there were the walkies. The actual size of the radio was immaterial. I needed to be sure there were blue tooth looking headsets available for them. Enough people had seen the telephones so that they might not to be intimidated by them. It would still allow instant communications between the two of us. Those were going to run at least a buck each, it appeared.

Then there were the beanbag firing shotguns for the really bad guys, loaded with beanbag rounds for the take down. I at least would carry a pocket full of buckshot, in case the situation became really intense. Those would run about two more each. It looked as though I was going to need to come up with a grand apiece for us. I had the money and I had already decided to do it, so it was just a matter of biting the bullet and writing the checks.

I had a rough plan made when Lucas showed up at the office. "Hello, Ms Stone," he said, as he approached my desk.

"Good morning, Lucas, you doing okay?" I asked.

"Yes Ma'am, I'm fine."

"Good, could you tell me about these papers you didn't get to serve?"

"Yes Ma'am. One of them the people doesn't live there and nobody knows where they are. The other two I could never seem to find, but I know they are still living here."

"I have a sign painter on the way, so why don't we try to find these three people while we wait?" "Sure, what should we do first?"

"Let's start with where they work, if they do?" I reached into the stack and pulled one at random. "Lucille Everston, bad checks, your note says she never comes home according to the neighbors."

"Well, they said she doesn't come home for days at a time. I didn't figure it would do much good to wait around for her."

"That is good figuring. So where does she go, when she isn't home?"

"Honest, I asked, but nobody seemed to know," Lucas informed me.

I took the phone directory from Ed's desk. Look up Everston," I said handing it to Lucas.

It took him a couple minutes, but he finally said, "L. L. Everston," he advised me along with the address and phone number,

"Now find out where she worked when she was arrested. It is in the arrest report."

"She worked at The Sub Station at the mall," Lucas said.

I dialed the phone number and waited. "Hello," an older female voice said.

"Mrs. Everston, this is Mandy at the Sub Station, I got Lucille's settlement check here. She can come get it, or I can send it to her."

"Are you at the mall?" the voice on the phone asked.

"No Ma'am, I at the business office in Tryon. Would you like that address."

"No, you can just send it here. She can get it here."

"Great and is that address,,,,,,,,,,,?" I asked.

"Yes, it is."

"Fine, I'll send it over by overnight courier. It should be there tomorrow before noon. She will have to sign since it is the settlement check."

"Okay, I'll tell her. How much is the check?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I can't give that information over the phone,"

"Oh okay. I'll tell her to be here tomorrow morning."

"That will be fine, thanks." I hung up the phone and said, "Well, let's see if she waits for us."

The second one fell for the same scam. It looked as though it would be a winner. Lucas was amazed. "Don't be too excited, it hasn't happened yet."

"What about the man who moved?" Lucas asked.

"For that, you need to find out who would know where he is. Somebody always knows, Son, even if it's only the man or woman who killed him."

"He is being called to court for failure to pay his child support. Start by finding out how old the children are. Call the lawyer who issued the papers, tell him or her that the guy has skipped. Ask if the lawyer wants us to pursue the guy. If so, get all the information you can from her, especially the contact information for the ex-wife."

"Excuse me, is one of you Max Stone?" The man who asked was younger than me by at least ten years. He was also gorgeous in that needs a bath and shave kind of way. Some women love that look, and some hate it, but all women have an opinion. I came down on the, if it don't smell, it's good side.

"I'm Stone," I answered.

"I'm Burke, the sign man. You got a van that you want signed?"

"Oh, I do indeed." I waved him over and handed him my preliminary sketch.

He looked it over then asked me. "Are you sure you want this just like you have it here?"

"Why, what's wrong with it?"

"Well, unless you are running a bleaching service, you're spelling lightning wrong."

"No, Michael, I want you to do it right." I replied, not at all humbled by my mistake. I make them all the time.

"Good enough, you want both sides done, one on the cargo door and one behind the driver's door?"

"You should look at the van. It has passenger doors on both sides."

"Okay then we're even, I get a point for correcting the spelling on your sign, and you get one because I assumed you ran a cargo van. Let's go measure it out."

Once we were outside, Michael said, "Crap, what an awful color for a business van." "I thought burgundy was a good color?"

"Not if you have to stick letters on it. Unless you don't care how awful they clash."

"Okay, Michael, how about you put on a white rectangular piece of film, then stick the lettering on it?"

"That will work, but it's gonna cost more and mess up more of the paint."

"What's it gonna look like?"

"What I can do is put half the sign on each door. That will give you the biggest sign. LIGHTNING on one door and EXPRESS on the other. Then your slogan on one door and the phone number on the other. Now I usually put a license number on the sign as well."

"Yeah, that's what I need to talk to my lawyer about."

"Ah I see, then get back with me tomorrow?"

"Do you have a price?" I asked.

"Simple letters, a hundred bucks a side. If you want me to find that little stick figure with the package that you drew, add thirty bucks. So make it two bills or two thirty, you decide."

"Fair enough, will I need to bring the van to your shop?"

"No, I can do it right here, this isn't much of a job."

"Then why don't we trade it out?" I smiled my best smile for him.

"Now what would my wife say to that."

"I don't know, want me to ask her?" I laughed. It was hard for me to believe I was making jokes, all things considered. Or was it a joke I wondered.

"I think I'll take it in cash money."

"Okay, but that's no fun."

Lucas and I served a couple of new papers and I had a good idea how to go about serving the other two the next day. Client three canceled when she realized how much trouble and expense it would be and probably still not get it done.

Jen called back and told me that regulations required that if I put the word courier or delivery on the van. I had to put a license number as well. I could however call myself anything I liked, as long as I didn't intend to break the law as a part of it. According to her, anything can be express like a dry cleaners, as well as a delivery service. The stick figure didn't designate me as a courier, just a terrible artist.

I arranged for Michael to install the signs the very first thing in the morning. Lucas and I might have time to use the van complete with signs for our errands.

17 when is first thing in the morning

"First thing is 8 AM," the voice of Michael Burke coming from my cell phone explained.

"Maybe that is true for you, but first thing for me is 8:30 AM and that's about the time I will arrive at the office. So go have a cup of coffee and a donut, and put it on my bill."

"Damn woman, I have way more to do than drink coffee. Okay, I do need to run by the drugstore. I'll do that first."

I pushed the end key, then got my ass busy. I had managed the morning shower, but I still had wet hair. I knew that I could either dry my almost non-existent hair and do my makeup, or I could drink a cup of coffee. Since I promised not to run over any more kids while they waited for the school bus, I opted for the coffee.

When I drove into the parking lot of Ed's converted service station, my hair, if it had been longer, would have been a rat's nest, and my face looked like that of a corpse, but I was on time. It was a good thing too, since Michael drove in right behind me.

"There you are, I was beginning to worry," I said, as I climbed down from the van.

"Right," he said, with a sarcastic smile. "It's a little chilly this morning. Any chance I can get you to make some coffee while I do this?"

"I am going to make coffee. If you want a cup, I can spare it," I replied.

Once inside the office, I removed the knit cap, which covered my still almost bald head, then started the coffee pot. I put the small plastic water bottle filled with coffee from home into the microwave. Two and a half minutes later, I poured the coffee into my coffee cup. "That prick outside can wait for his," I mumbled. While Michael worked on the van, I laid out my plan of attack for the day. It included serving our two hard to find people, as well as two new ones who came in late the day before.

"I see Michael the sign guy is hard at work," Ed suggested, when he came in around 9 AM.

"Yes, damn guy called me at home to ask where the hell I was." I said that with what I am sure was a dark look.

"Oh what time was that?" Ed asked.

"8 fucking o'clock," I replied.

"Really were you alone?"

"Ed, that was a rude thing to ask, but yes, I was alone and awake. I was also soaking wet."

"Oh, you left home with wet hair from the shower. I didn't know, Max. It could have been wet and tangled from your bedroom gymnastics."

"First of all, my hair is too short to be tangled, and secondly, how would you know about my gymnastics?"

"Hell, Honey, everyone in town knows," he said, smiling at me.

"Not that many know first hand," I replied.

"Oh hell, it's even better that way. That way there are not as many who can deny your superhuman exploits." He did at least laugh.

"Right, I'm middle-aged. It's a miracle that I can ever find anyone to screw me. They say the odds are better I will be killed in a terrorist attack than get laid." I gave him a sick laugh. "What man wants to screw an almost bald, middle aged, bitchy broad?"

"Are you taking applications?" The voice came from the front of the office. It belonged to a young man who was way too clean cut looking to really be interested in me.

"Sure, leave your resume, with references, on the desk"

"Hey, Joey, do you have my money?" Ed asked.

"Yes, Mr. Martin, I have your bloodsucking fee."

"Now, Joey, if you keep your daddy out of those bars, then you won't have to pay my bloodsucking fee."

"It's easier to pay your fee, than to keep him away from the bars. He did go to two meetings since he got out on bail."

"Well, keep him going, you just never know when they might take hold." Ed accepted the check the young man handed him. "Do you need a receipt?"

"I never have before." He smiled at Ed then turned to me and said, "As for you, if you combed your fussy hair and put on some makeup, you would be adequate looking. Good enough to take to a dark college bar anyway."

"If that is an invitation, how could I turn it down?"

"Then meet me on Friday at the 'Dungeon' at 8 PM." He said.

"Okay, but damn it, you are paying, I'm sure you can afford the 'Dungeon, ' it's where the winos drink during the daylight," I replied.

"Alright, but only if you don't drink too much."

"I never drink THAT much," I said with a wicked smile. After he had gone I asked Ed, "What's his story."

"His dad is a drunk, one who doesn't know enough to stop driving. He will probably do thirty days on the farm this time. It's a big game, I think. They arrest him whenever they see him. His lawyer gets it reduced to reckless driving or some such bullshit and he does thirty days. Then he comes out and it starts all over again."

"I don't have much patience for drunk drivers. They eventually kill or maim someone." I meant it too.

"Yes they do, but unlike you, men don't usually have people offering them a place to stay while they sober up." Ed wasn't judging me; he was just stating a fact.

I shook my head and went back to the papers on my desk. Since my thin hair was about dry, I went to the bathroom to try to comb it. No matter what I did, it was just an inch long limp mess. Since I shaved my head a couple of weeks before, it had started to grow back, but it wasn't any thicker. I had hoped it would be. I looked like a teenage boy with an inch long crew cut that just laid flat. I had been tempted to go with a dyke look. Hair all spiked up and a leather collar around my neck. I just felt a little old for that look.

There wasn't much I could do about the hair, but I could at least put on some makeup. The foundation added some color to my pale face. The tiny bit of rouge on my cheeks reduced the cadaver look to a minimum. I tried to stay away from red lipstick, so I went with a dark rose color. A little eye shadow completed my painted on face look.

"My God, Max, you must be in love. That is the most makeup I have seen you wear on a weekday."

"Well, Ed, it's all for you, Honey."

"I bet," he replied.

"Okay. Stone, that is going to be $250 including the tax."

"Nice round number," I replied. "Now you are sure it all has to be in cash."

"I take credit cards," he replied.

I still had the Southland Visa with a lot more than that on it, so yes I was tempted but decided not to do it. "Will you take a check?"

"I will take a good check," he replied.

"Then a check it is," I said, winking at Ed. I made sure Michael saw the wink. Might as well give him something to think about.

The bank called fifteen minutes after Michael left. I seldom used a paper check, so they wanted to be sure I would approve the check. I did of course. I could see how trustworthy Michael thought I was. I got a big smile from his opinion of me.