Whistler Street Chronicles, Page 2
Kurt Frazier, Sr
Shadow.”
“Times have been tough since I left the force and I had to do something to earn a living and besides that she was crying when she called me and I couldn’t turn her down.” “You always had a soft spot for a females tears Shadow.” “I know captain, but then again they get you with their smiles and dreamy eyes.” After talking about old times we got down to business and put my brains and the brawn of the detective bureau to work; determined to find the missing bear before Gregory Rowling came back and found his dear friend Stanley missing.
The invasive water was cold around the waders that Greg Rowling had borrowed from his neighbor Phil and was finding its way into the left boot and slowly filling the foot area up but that was not about to stop him from getting his catch for the day. He had brought some basic essentials with the other things that were needed for his week stay in the woods. Things like peanut butter crackers, chips, and bottled water and coffee; and even more important than those items were the six cans of tuna, three cases of jerky, and four bags of marshmallows to roast over the fire. His goal for today was to catch some fresh fish and make a filling meal of those watery creatures. His take for the morning was limited to three small trout and a rubber boot; Greg had thrown the trout upon the bank of the river and had tried the boot on in hopes of covering the hole that was in the waders. That was not to be the case because the boot had two problems; it was too small and went on the right foot not the left, no matter though for he still had the three small trout. From the area behind a large oak tree Greg heard some type of scuffling going on and turned to see what was making all of the racket and soon discovered that there were two raccoons fighting over his dinner that had been lying on the ground. That was all that Greg could stand for one day, between the cold water soaking his foot, the mosquitoes making a meal out of him and now those blasted raccoons eating his dinner… that was the last straw and he almost convinced himself to pack up and go home. One more day, he thought and if the fishing were not any better tomorrow he might return home.
The tuna on the peanut butter crackers wasn’t too bad and the coffee was a little better than the food, but the roasted marshmallows with chocolate and graham crackers made all of his struggles worth it. After all this trip was not so bad, he did have his portable radio, camping lantern and he had brought his entire Dickens collection to read while relaxing here in the wilderness.
Greg sat down in the rocking chair in the rustic, creaky, rented cabin; and took out all thirty of his classic reading books and began to scroll through the pages of his e-reader. Which one should he read tonight? “A Christmas Carol” had been his choice for the previous nights reading which he had enjoyed very much. “Dickens old boy, he said, I have greatly enjoyed this book that you have written and I should have read it much sooner than this. I have watched the movie; several versions over the years, but I have never had the inclination to read the book to which I must give you my compliments on a job well done.” The thought crossed his mind and he began to wonder what Charles Dickens would have said if someone had told him that one day a person could own every work that Dickens had written and carry them around in a device that was smaller than the printed version of “A Christmas Carol.” Greg settled on reading “A Tale of Two Cities” and so began his new nightly passion.
As Greg began to doze off he thought of his wife and wondered what she was doing at the moment. Probably resting comfortably while watching her favorite late night classic TV shows and munching on some buttery, salty popcorn. He knew that he had nothing to worry about because Gertie had faithful old Stanley to watch over her while he was gone and with that comforting thought Gregory Lowing fell fast asleep.
Stanley wanted to run as fast as he could, he wished that he could growl like the bears he had seen on TV. If he could run and he could growl then he could chew the legs off the man that had picked him up and taken him away from his family, the only family that had ever loved him. If only he could do that then he could escape and make it back home. Oh why hadn’t Gregory taken me with him; thought Stanley. I wouldn’t have been much trouble to him; all I wanted to do was sit on the river bank while he fished. Just to sit there and watch his friend having a wonderful time was all that Stanley had wished for; that is all that would have been needed for a stronger bond between the two of them. --You stay here and keep an eye on the wife, see that no harm comes to her; okay Stanley. -- Some protector he turned out to be, he couldn’t even keep himself safe. Now here I am in some kind of tent and I think that I smell elephants, and I know that I heard some of those funny dressed people talking about “seeing how many we can fit in that little car,” and then they all left me here alone. --Don’t forget the dummy-- The man screamed and then fell over and now he was lying in a pool of what might be blood. “No one calls my friend a dummy,” said the man with curly green hair and a big red nose.
“Shadow its Sentry, can you come downtown? We found your bear, yeah he’s ok, and a little shaken up though; we think that he was a witness in a murder case. A couple of clowns got into it and the one stabbed the other one and then disappeared into the night.”
“No problem captain, you found my bear and now I will find your clown,” was my reply to my friend. “You know that I believe in the right to bear arms Haven, I was just thinking that it’s too bad we don’t have the right to arm bears.” “You’re right, Matthew; that’s all we need is an evil clown running around causing problems.
Airborne
Fishman was worried; very worried to an extreme degree. He had goofed up before; but never like he had today. The boss would surely fire him now and Fishman knew it for the boss had said; “one more goof up and you’re fired.” Why had the boss given him a blank check? He wished someone else had gotten it not him; for he was too not there in matters like these.
Besides that a pesky fly tormented him relentlessly. Oh what a day today was, he slipped on a banana peel, and fell; Fishman saw the blank check flying upward.
If this were a normal day and Fishman’s boss was the type that would understand all of the circumstances he had gone through today then he would not be so worried. After all the logical thing to do with a lost check would be to call the boss, tell him about the vanishing check and let the boss call the bank and stop payment on the check. Fishman knew that was not going to happen; no, he would call the boss and the boss would throw out a series of derogatory remarks at him; something like: lamebrain, numbskull, idiot, fool, and some that are to profane to mention here. Then he would end his tirade with, “Fishman, YOU’RE FIRED!” That would be the end of life as Fishman knew it; for then he would have to go home and face the unrelenting terror that his wife would unleash upon him.
Fishman and his wife Gladys had been at odds for years and things there did not look as though they would change anytime soon. If there was one thing that made Fishman glad to go to work and face the great grump was the fact that there was at his humble abode an even greater grump; one that made the names and remarks tagged on him at work seem like the words of a beautiful melody. If Fishman were not able to recover this blank check then it was well that he neither goes back to work nor return to his humble home.
The wind caught the blank check and carried it down the street, at times the airstream would relent its’ grip upon the draft allowing it to fall to the ground and then as if someone teasing a child would pick it up and toss it out of Fishmans’ grasp. In one instance when Fishman had a finger upon the blank check a man dressed in a clown costume stepped on his hand and bent over to pick up the blank check; however, the same current of air that tormented Fishman was no friend to this circus bound fellow either, for as he reached for it, the blank check sailed up and away out of sight. The two men stood there gazing into the sky at their loss; the clowny fellow pulled at what little green curly hair he had and Fishman buried his face in his hands and began to weep.
Why had he not put the check into his wallet instead of carrying it in his hand? Simpl
e, he figured that if a thug were to pick his pocket then what little money he had along with this blank check would be gone and what if the thief had enough sense to cash the check and clean out the company account; then Fishman would be in great trouble.
He knew that all was now lost; his future with the company, the new car, the house and Fishman was convinced that even his wife that he loved dearly would leave him and he would be all alone. Should he call the boss or should he just vanish into thin air in the same way as the blank check had done, he just didn’t know. One thing was sure and that was he was nearing the time when he should now be at the Enormous Cookie Factory, to pay for the order that the boss had placed. Why did the boss send a blank check instead of one made out to the Enormous Cookie Factory for the exact amount of the order? --this is a special order and they won’t know exactly how much it will cost until the order is complete-- and the deal was made on the sly, so that there won’t be any link to the company the “PAY TO” was left blank.
Out of the corner of his left eye Fishman saw something that brought his hopes up again; the
“Times have been tough since I left the force and I had to do something to earn a living and besides that she was crying when she called me and I couldn’t turn her down.” “You always had a soft spot for a females tears Shadow.” “I know captain, but then again they get you with their smiles and dreamy eyes.” After talking about old times we got down to business and put my brains and the brawn of the detective bureau to work; determined to find the missing bear before Gregory Rowling came back and found his dear friend Stanley missing.
The invasive water was cold around the waders that Greg Rowling had borrowed from his neighbor Phil and was finding its way into the left boot and slowly filling the foot area up but that was not about to stop him from getting his catch for the day. He had brought some basic essentials with the other things that were needed for his week stay in the woods. Things like peanut butter crackers, chips, and bottled water and coffee; and even more important than those items were the six cans of tuna, three cases of jerky, and four bags of marshmallows to roast over the fire. His goal for today was to catch some fresh fish and make a filling meal of those watery creatures. His take for the morning was limited to three small trout and a rubber boot; Greg had thrown the trout upon the bank of the river and had tried the boot on in hopes of covering the hole that was in the waders. That was not to be the case because the boot had two problems; it was too small and went on the right foot not the left, no matter though for he still had the three small trout. From the area behind a large oak tree Greg heard some type of scuffling going on and turned to see what was making all of the racket and soon discovered that there were two raccoons fighting over his dinner that had been lying on the ground. That was all that Greg could stand for one day, between the cold water soaking his foot, the mosquitoes making a meal out of him and now those blasted raccoons eating his dinner… that was the last straw and he almost convinced himself to pack up and go home. One more day, he thought and if the fishing were not any better tomorrow he might return home.
The tuna on the peanut butter crackers wasn’t too bad and the coffee was a little better than the food, but the roasted marshmallows with chocolate and graham crackers made all of his struggles worth it. After all this trip was not so bad, he did have his portable radio, camping lantern and he had brought his entire Dickens collection to read while relaxing here in the wilderness.
Greg sat down in the rocking chair in the rustic, creaky, rented cabin; and took out all thirty of his classic reading books and began to scroll through the pages of his e-reader. Which one should he read tonight? “A Christmas Carol” had been his choice for the previous nights reading which he had enjoyed very much. “Dickens old boy, he said, I have greatly enjoyed this book that you have written and I should have read it much sooner than this. I have watched the movie; several versions over the years, but I have never had the inclination to read the book to which I must give you my compliments on a job well done.” The thought crossed his mind and he began to wonder what Charles Dickens would have said if someone had told him that one day a person could own every work that Dickens had written and carry them around in a device that was smaller than the printed version of “A Christmas Carol.” Greg settled on reading “A Tale of Two Cities” and so began his new nightly passion.
As Greg began to doze off he thought of his wife and wondered what she was doing at the moment. Probably resting comfortably while watching her favorite late night classic TV shows and munching on some buttery, salty popcorn. He knew that he had nothing to worry about because Gertie had faithful old Stanley to watch over her while he was gone and with that comforting thought Gregory Lowing fell fast asleep.
Stanley wanted to run as fast as he could, he wished that he could growl like the bears he had seen on TV. If he could run and he could growl then he could chew the legs off the man that had picked him up and taken him away from his family, the only family that had ever loved him. If only he could do that then he could escape and make it back home. Oh why hadn’t Gregory taken me with him; thought Stanley. I wouldn’t have been much trouble to him; all I wanted to do was sit on the river bank while he fished. Just to sit there and watch his friend having a wonderful time was all that Stanley had wished for; that is all that would have been needed for a stronger bond between the two of them. --You stay here and keep an eye on the wife, see that no harm comes to her; okay Stanley. -- Some protector he turned out to be, he couldn’t even keep himself safe. Now here I am in some kind of tent and I think that I smell elephants, and I know that I heard some of those funny dressed people talking about “seeing how many we can fit in that little car,” and then they all left me here alone. --Don’t forget the dummy-- The man screamed and then fell over and now he was lying in a pool of what might be blood. “No one calls my friend a dummy,” said the man with curly green hair and a big red nose.
“Shadow its Sentry, can you come downtown? We found your bear, yeah he’s ok, and a little shaken up though; we think that he was a witness in a murder case. A couple of clowns got into it and the one stabbed the other one and then disappeared into the night.”
“No problem captain, you found my bear and now I will find your clown,” was my reply to my friend. “You know that I believe in the right to bear arms Haven, I was just thinking that it’s too bad we don’t have the right to arm bears.” “You’re right, Matthew; that’s all we need is an evil clown running around causing problems.
Airborne
Fishman was worried; very worried to an extreme degree. He had goofed up before; but never like he had today. The boss would surely fire him now and Fishman knew it for the boss had said; “one more goof up and you’re fired.” Why had the boss given him a blank check? He wished someone else had gotten it not him; for he was too not there in matters like these.
Besides that a pesky fly tormented him relentlessly. Oh what a day today was, he slipped on a banana peel, and fell; Fishman saw the blank check flying upward.
If this were a normal day and Fishman’s boss was the type that would understand all of the circumstances he had gone through today then he would not be so worried. After all the logical thing to do with a lost check would be to call the boss, tell him about the vanishing check and let the boss call the bank and stop payment on the check. Fishman knew that was not going to happen; no, he would call the boss and the boss would throw out a series of derogatory remarks at him; something like: lamebrain, numbskull, idiot, fool, and some that are to profane to mention here. Then he would end his tirade with, “Fishman, YOU’RE FIRED!” That would be the end of life as Fishman knew it; for then he would have to go home and face the unrelenting terror that his wife would unleash upon him.
Fishman and his wife Gladys had been at odds for years and things there did not look as though they would change anytime soon. If there was one thing that made Fishman glad to go to work and face the great grump was the fact that there was at his humble abode an even greater grump; one that made the names and remarks tagged on him at work seem like the words of a beautiful melody. If Fishman were not able to recover this blank check then it was well that he neither goes back to work nor return to his humble home.
The wind caught the blank check and carried it down the street, at times the airstream would relent its’ grip upon the draft allowing it to fall to the ground and then as if someone teasing a child would pick it up and toss it out of Fishmans’ grasp. In one instance when Fishman had a finger upon the blank check a man dressed in a clown costume stepped on his hand and bent over to pick up the blank check; however, the same current of air that tormented Fishman was no friend to this circus bound fellow either, for as he reached for it, the blank check sailed up and away out of sight. The two men stood there gazing into the sky at their loss; the clowny fellow pulled at what little green curly hair he had and Fishman buried his face in his hands and began to weep.
Why had he not put the check into his wallet instead of carrying it in his hand? Simpl
e, he figured that if a thug were to pick his pocket then what little money he had along with this blank check would be gone and what if the thief had enough sense to cash the check and clean out the company account; then Fishman would be in great trouble.
He knew that all was now lost; his future with the company, the new car, the house and Fishman was convinced that even his wife that he loved dearly would leave him and he would be all alone. Should he call the boss or should he just vanish into thin air in the same way as the blank check had done, he just didn’t know. One thing was sure and that was he was nearing the time when he should now be at the Enormous Cookie Factory, to pay for the order that the boss had placed. Why did the boss send a blank check instead of one made out to the Enormous Cookie Factory for the exact amount of the order? --this is a special order and they won’t know exactly how much it will cost until the order is complete-- and the deal was made on the sly, so that there won’t be any link to the company the “PAY TO” was left blank.
Out of the corner of his left eye Fishman saw something that brought his hopes up again; the
