Deadly Compromises by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 16
When Kelly got back to the house she sat on the couch and relaxed a while, proud that she had done her job perfectly. After a few minutes she took a quick look around to see what the cops had fiddled with. Some things that were disturbed she wished weren’t investigated, but that didn’t bother her much, when she considered the circumstances. She went to the library, mostly wanting to confirm that the hideous body was gone. She slowly peered into the room from her kitchen position, taking in more and more of the quiet area. She giggled, feeling like a schoolgirl, doing something naughty. Exhilaration. She entered the room and found it corpseless. She was feeling so fantastically, she wanted somebody to know that. She wished Bobby was here right now. She wondered what he was doing right now. She then thought of George!
She drove back to his house.
She yelled; “Hey, George!” as she let herself in.
He was sitting on his couch, perusing a huge book titled
“Bloodletters and Bad Men.” He closed it, shook his head and
said; “Whew, you should see some of the nuts in this. Really weirds me out.”
Kelly too quickly responded; “My favorite was the lady who killed seven or eight husbands in really gory ways.” She realized that it would be better for her if she calmed down just a tad. She added; “Very bad attempt at black humor. Let’s start over.”
George smiled and said; “I am so glad you came back.”
“Me, too. I finished with the cops quickly and I feel great. Let’s do something today.”
“I’m with that.”
“Okay. You go get dressed. We’ll go to the Indian Museum.”
They took his fifteen year old unwashed brown Toyota and during the ride, they made minimal conversation. He had the radio on and they were listening to music from twenty years ago; Hendrix, Joplin, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Cream, Steppenwolf, Blue Cheer, Grateful Dead, Airplane, Sly...... Today was a day for relics. He parked in the museum lot.
The entered and each set off on their own ways, looking at things of interest to them. Sometimes, they’d get to the same
spot and discuss the merits or lack thereof of what they had just seen. He liked the living situations best and she the paintings.
They spent about one and a half hours and then went to the gift shop.
George said, “You don’t always have to buy something.”
“You know, I just want something for the memory of a nice day and today I want to buy you something.”
“They charge more for Indian stuff here. You can get it cheaper at the reservations.”
“We’re not on a reservation, we’re here. So what’s your favorite thing in the store?”
“Let me look around for a while?”
“Sure, I also have to.”
She walked around the entirety of the small store, noting the contrast between the uncompromising glass and chrome modernity of the facility itself and the goods for sale, which were generally also of recent origin, but were made to imitate items from forty or more years prior. She focused on the books.
George made no note of the contrast detected by Kelly and as far as he was concerned, it looked like many other stores in
the area, only with higher price tags. He focused on the silver jewelry.
The female Native American clerk was wearing a flimsy, sophisticated and expensive looking pale green dress, was impeccably made up, though her dark blue headband seemed at odds with the rest of the picture. She paid the two little attention, perhaps assuming, given the couple’s scruffy appearance that they wouldn’t buy much, if anything.
Kelly said to George; “Have you seen everything yet?”
“I don't know if I’ve seen everything, but I’ve seen what they have here.”
Kelly smiled and said; “Cute. What does your little heart desire?”
“I want what you already told me I can’t have, so....”
Kelly cut him off and lifted her right arm, her fingers clenched in a fist; “George, so help me, I’m going to.....”
George cut her off, put his hands up to defend himself and said; “Peace and love, sister. Peace and love, sister.” They were both laughing at each other at this point and he continued;
“I like something over here.” He led her to the jewelry counter.
Kelly followed him and when he didn’t indicate anything in particular, she got mildly annoyed and said; “How many times do I have to ask?”
“Well, if you insist. My favorite thing by far is a silver bracelet. They’re not cheap.”
“Just get it. Money always finds me.”
She added a book of Indian legends to the purchase, paid for the items and they left.
Driving back she was again quiet, however he was so excited, he kept looking at his bracelet and, worse, he was compelled to explain what the symbols on it meant, sometimes incorrectly. She just smiled at him when he got one wrong.
They parted in the driveway and Kelly went to her car.
George said, “Thanks, Kelly, really. Some things never change.
And I hope they never do.”
Kelly said, “Just enjoy it. Bye.”
“How can I thank you? Really.”
“Just stay my friend. And don’t worry about it. My dearly departed made me beneficiary on a sizable life insurance
policy.” She smiled at wide-eyed George, drove back home and intended to relax reading “American Indian Myths and Legends.”