X-Ray Vision Ch. 10: Partnership

He looked alarmed, took my hand cautiously, shook.

"You probably gotta tell him, you'll be back every six months. To do maintenance? He'll just take your word, I think. We can avoid this in future."

I left, careful to let the door close quietly, leaving him with a surprised look. Like he never met a kick-ass get-shit-done businesswoman before!

I continued down the street, six blocks of family-owned businesses and some fast-food joints for variety. Success about fifty percent, folks agreed to display my card. Some of them the first time, hadn't done that for anybody before. What can I say, I'm dang persuasive.

That done, the day is heating up and I'm getting sore on my bike seat. Haven't ridden so much since middle school! Took the bus after that, High School was in the next town, 30 miles over.

I never had gears before. That's awesome! I can really get going on the level; downhill it even gets scary! I quickly learned to use the back brake mostly, keep it from trying to hurl me over the handlebars.

Cranking up the hill, around the golf course, hurtle down and across the tracks and to the creek. A mobile home park next, literally on the wrong side of the tracks over here. Probably not a lot of folks wanting to pay my rate in there.

After that, the open countryside! Got really hilly so I didn't want to go too far. But I'd been going what? A couple hours? And I was maybe ten miles from the condo already.

The freedom! I can imagine maybe riding to the next town if I need to, or down the coast, get somewhere else in a day easy. No gas; no insurance. Just me and my trusty bike!

And something to drink; I figured out my mistake once the sun started beating down. Powerful thirsty. There was a cage bolted to the frame, probably for holding a water bottle. I should get me one of those.

Rather than suffer and die out here, I decided to head down a lane to a farmhouse, ask for water. I'm pretty good at approaching people, charming them into helping me.

Nobody home apparently, but that's often the case with homesteads. Folks out working, nobody visible around the place. So, I knocked first, though I could see a garden hose and a hydrant from where I stood.

Some sound from inside, a baby fussing? Then the door opened quietly, a face peeked out.

"What can I do for you?" She seemed impatient, looked over her shoulder, back at me.

"I'm out riding my bike and I forgot water. Can I drink from your garden hose?"

Her expression softened. "Come in honey, I'll get you something. You don't want to drink from that nasty hose!"

She pushed the screen door open, so I took it, followed her back in.

Yup, a baby fussing in the other room. Mom led me to the kitchen, got a glass from the dish drainer, ran some water, handed it over.

I was so thirsty I downed it in one long go. She looked on amused, refilled it for me. I went slower this time.

"You from the City?"

I shook my head, finished drinking. "Just the coast, came out here on my new bike to see what I could see!"

The baby got louder, she looked distracted.

"Go! I'll finish up."

She went to the back bedroom, and I heard the baby cry modify, quiet. She came back with her over one shoulder, patting her back.

"Won't sleep? Colic?"

I didn't know a lot about babies, except when one had 'colic' it was hard on Mom.

She shook her head. "Freddy, that's her older brother, put her favorite stuffy somewhere, I don't know where. She won't settle without it."

"And now Freddy is asleep, and she won't go down. How old is Freddy?"

"Four and a half."

"I'll help look?"

We went into the living room, I sipped my water, looked slowly around. The floor was a blizzard of toys, crayon books, sippy cups, cast-off socks and shoes. The usual baby-home-mess.

Mom was toeing stuff around, listlessly turning things over hoping the toy would appear.

Not really anyplace to hide. "How big is her stuffy?"

Mom held her thumb and finger apart on one hand, about six inches apart. So. Not a lot of choices.

I picked my way over, knelt on the couch, looked behind. A little table, some potted plants on them, getting the light from the window and out of range of little hands. Nothing else there.

There were baby gates, the kid had to have put it somewhere in here. Or in his room, but I wasn't going to go there yet.

A bouncy chair on a frame, nowhere to put anything. A toy box, the lid open, a glance showed it empty, everything vomited onto the floor as was usual with a four-year-old.

A rocking horse, suspended on a springy frame, crudely made from wood panels, faded and scratched, hand-painted design. Probably a hand-me-down, a family thing, they didn't make them like this anymore, too much chance of springs pinching little fingers.

I knelt, felt underneath, ran my hand along. Closed in the front, open in the back. I bent way over, holding my glass safely away, got my hand, my arm up in there, felt up, back, forward.

A softy feeling - I grabbed, tugged and carefully extracted my arm. I held a little fluffy unicorn, lurid colors, outrageous soft mane and stubby cloth tail.

"Horsey!" Mom was smiling, took it from me with gratitude. Went into the back bedroom, sorted out her napper, came back.

"Thank you! I was at my wits' end."

I handed back her water glass. "No problem, Ma'am! That's what I do. Billie's Recovery Service! I find things! Glad to be able to help!"

She was impressed. "What do you charge?"

"Nothing for you, thank you Ma'am! But if you know of any neighbors that have lost something, I'd be obliged if you passed my name along!"

"I will! Give me your number." We went into the kitchen, scribbled my name and number, my rate on her phone pad.

Said my goodbye's and thank you!'s, went out and remounted my bike. Time to head home, it'll be more than three hours the time I get back.

...

Skinny dude had his shirt back on, the place was not cool but not hot anymore. It felt like heaven to me, tired and sweaty and parched.

Without asking he got my bundle of cards from a cubby, handed them over. I got out my wad, but he held up one hand, Stop!

"What? Didn't they turn out?" I tore the paper a little; no, the cards looked fine.

He smiled, pointed at the cold air vent. I got it finally.

"You're welcome! I just happened to be there on other business, and he mentioned he knew all about your system, would be glad to sort you out!"

I left, free cards in hand, happier than I had any right to be. Doing a good turn had turned out extra good for me! Who knew kindness could work like that!

Now to hand them out. The hill was nothing now, just a few blocks, steep but nothing like those in the country, those could go a mile uphill and then get steeper at the top! This was a piece of cake, now I had twenty miles of county roads under my belt.

I spent the next two hours madly handing out cards, remembering who had said Yes! and who didn't. Pet store Santa took a dozen, stacked them by the register.

Keep Your Cool AC place, the old guy still there, flashed a smile when I came in, careful not to slam the door.

"You called it! He was clueless, glad to have our help. And now I have another regular maintenance job! Those are bread and butter in my business."

He took a half-dozen cards too; would have taken them all if I wanted, but I didn't want all my eggs in one basket.

Down the hill again, half my cards left, hanging from the handlebars in a plastic bag, banging on the frame constantly. Have to get one of those bike-basket things, or maybe some satchel hanging behind the seat.

I got back to the condo in no time, the distance seemed trivial now I'd been to Timbuktu and back. Came in the door happier than I had any right to be, the happiest I've been since I saw Idaho out the back window of that bus.

Answering machine light was on! Icing on my wonderful happy cake.

Punch the button as I got a glass, filled it from the kitchen sink.

"Billie? This is Aaron, Becky told me you find things? I have a car gone, taken from my barn. My project car; my baby!"

I could hear the anguish in his voice, he was hurting over this. Guys and their cars!

"If you could call me back, I want you on this right away! Before it's too late, my car cut up for parts or worse!"

I jotted down his info, hit erase.

This was taking BRS to a whole new level. Missing cars! The big time!

I wonder, have we bitten off too much? Is Greg right, are we gonna be private detectives now?