Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce my novelist. As most of you know from last week my novelist has relinquished her blog to me. As I am a budding writer under my novelist’s tutelage, I thought I would use this opportunity to create a writing space for my own work. I am doing a good old fashioned serial story in which I write a weekly installment and share it with you. My novelist will continue to do the Stream of the Week section. She is recently concentrating on Oscar nominees. If you would like to familiarize yourself with some novels which were originally produced as serials you can look for them here: The Serial Novel: A Brief History with 30 Examples [Infographic] (booksonthewall.com) As a side note, I must say the Maltese looks infinitely better after his trip to the groomers. I find I hate him a little less than I did before. But he’s still a retched cur and I despise him. Without further ado, here is this week’s installment of my story. Godere!
What I Found in the Trunk
Gigi the parti poodle
“What was that?!” Gary exclaimed putting on the brake and turning off the car.
He threw open the door, walked back and popped the trunk. When he opened the decklid, he found the trunk to be immaculate. Not a speck of dirt in sight. But there was an object inside: a steel metal box with a handle.
“Must be for tools,” Gary muttered. The box was the same shade of red as the car. He picked it up, shut the decklid, opened the passenger’s side door, and set it on the floor. Then he thought better of it, moved it to the seat, took off his blazer and threw it over the box to conceal it.
He drove the car to an out of the way place at the back of the dealership and shut off the engine. He checked the rear-view mirror to see if anyone was around. Then he pealed his jacket back from the box, unlatched the red lid, and lifted it. Three things were inside: a house key on a solid silver keychain with a gargoyle dangling off it, an index card with an address and a small velvet box. Gary checked the box and felt around but nothing else was to be found. Just key, card and red velvet box. Garry picked up the red velvet box and flipped open the lid. Glittering up at him was a pear cut diamond ring. The stone must have been two carrots and had a lot of sparkle.
“Huh,” he said puzzled.
Gary closed the velvet box, put it back in the steel container, closed the lid, and flipped the latch. Well, he thought to himself. I’m going to have to call the girl.
Gary headed back into the dealership office and started flipping through the files.
“Did you call Doug yet?” his dad barked.
“Going to do it right now.”
“Then why are you going through the files?”
“I need to find that girl’s phone number.”
Now Gary was going to tell his dad what he’d found in the trunk of the Beretta. But instead, he said, “I need to call her about the trunk.”
“What’s wrong with the trunk?”
“Nothing? Then why are you calling her?”
“I just have a question about the trunk.”
“Well, it’s a little late now, don’t you think?”
“It’s never too late.”
Gary grabbed the office phone, dialed the number, and waited. The room felt hot for some reason. He got the message, “The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please check the number and dial again.” He dialed the number again. “The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please check the number and dial again.”
“Sounds like she doesn’t want to be found, cowboy,” his dad said.
“I suppose not.”
Gary hung up, put back the file, and left the office.
At five o’clock that evening Gary got into his sedan and turned on the engine. In the passenger’s seat he had placed the red metal box under his sport coat. He turned on the GPS, checked the index card and typed in the address. The address looked like it was about thirty minutes away and traffic was lighter than usual. The place was near the University District in Sandpoint. He used to drive down there when he was in college and chill out by the water during spring and summer quarters. He figured it was probably a house the girl shared with other students.
When he pulled up to the curb and parked the car, he noticed the place looked like a rented house. The neighborhood was quiet. Quieter than he’d expected. He got out of the car, locked it, and headed for the front door. When he went to ring the doorbell, curiosity got the best of him and he tried peeking through the blinds in the right-hand window. The place was sparse. No real furniture to speak of. Bare wooden floors, a staircase, no pictures on the walls. He thought there would have at least been a television inside.
Gary rang the doorbell and waited…and waited. He rang it again. This time he heard fast heavy footsteps approach the door.
“If you’re dropping off a package, just leave it,” a young male voice said.
“I’m not a delivery driver.”
“Who are you?”
“A young woman sold me a car this morning and she left something in the trunk.
“So, I came to give it back to her.”
“Yeah, what’s her name?”
“The registration said Rune.”
“Oh,” the voice said. “Her.”
“Yes…so…is Rune here?”
“Nope…what was in the trunk?”
“A red metal strong box.”
“And inside it was this address, a house key and a ring.”
This time the voice didn’t answer.”
“Did you hear me?”
“You got the strong box with you?”
“Did you drive here?”
“Drive around the block a couple of times. Park the car somewhere else. Walk back here with the strong box but don’t let anyone see you carrying it.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Do you have one of those reusable grocery bags or something?”
“Duh! Put the strongbox in the reusable grocery bag and come back here. But don’t come to this door. Go around to the back door and enter from the other side of the street. You got it?”
“Just do it, man.”
You can check out my books Chicane and the first four installments in my Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist! and Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!!!
STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7 (2020)-Netflix
Written and directed by Aaron Sorken this historical piece set in 1968 Chicago is a riveting and highly entertaining story about eight men who were put on trial for allegedly crossing state lines to start riots which occurred during the democratic convention. The movie is nominated for six Academy Awards: Best Picture, Best Supporting Actor (Sacha Baron Cohen), Best Cinematography, Best Film Editing, Best Original Song and Best Original Screenplay (Sorken). Leaders of Students for a Democratic Society Tom Hayden (Eddie Redmayne) and Rennie Davis (Alex Sharp), head for Chicago to meet up with Yippies (Youth International Party) Abbie Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) and Jerry Rubin (Jeremy Strong), as well as radical pacifist David Dellinger (John Carroll Lynch), Black Panther Bobby Seale (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), and activists Lee Weiner (Noah Robbins) and John Froines (Danny Flaherty) to protest the Vietnam war. Hayden and Rennie attempt to get permits for the park nearby to help ensure a peaceful protest but are turned down despite their efforts to warn the city that many protesters are coming to Chicago. Riots do indeed break out between protesters and police, but which side started it is unclear. The eight men go to trial, seven of them represented by William Kunstler (Mark Rylance) and Leonard Weinglass (Ben Shenkman). Bobby Seale is supposed to be represented by Charles Gary, but Gary is unable to do so because he must undergo surgery and Seale is left unrepresented. All eight defendants must face the erratic and antagonistic Judge Julies Hoffman (Frank Langella) and attempt to prove their innocence.