Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce the fiftieth and final chapter of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This has been an experiment almost a year in the making. And now it has reached its glorious end. If you are not aware, the idea of my blog stories is to write a story on the fly, chapter to chapter as opposed to creating the foundation of a story and doing the research that accompanies most novels. After today I will be taking a hiatus to assist my novelist in writing…a novel…the traditional way. I will continue to do my usual Thursday posts, and my novelist will continue to write her Stream of the Week. I anticipate returning to writing stories for the blog again in the Summer of 2025 and will keep you updated. Until then, I hope you enjoy my fiftieth and final chapter of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Jouir!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Fifty

Curtis opened his eyes. He could see a carpet of green grass and his nose caught the smell of Easter lilies. He sat up and looked around and could see daffodils and tulips blooming in the nearby gardens. As he gazed further away, he saw a haze…maybe a mistiness across the field in the distance. Then he heard a jingle, a light metallic sound.

Out of the mist came a sight that gave him more relief than anything he’d ever seen. His little dog Haven with white satin bows in her hair ran towards him yipping frantically. When she reached him, she stood up on her hind legs and danced in front of him.

Curtis fell on his knees and scooped the little Yorkie runt into his arms. Her silky hair brushed against his cheek as he inhaled her clean scent that swirled in his mind like joy.

“Haven,” he said as warm rivers of tears streamed down his cheeks. “Haven, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you.”

Her small pink tongue flicked at his salty face as he stood up and carried her through the grass. He looked around and saw the mountains with white snowy caps. He could hear water flowing from a nearby fountain. He heard robins and blue jays and chickadees. He looked up into the cherry blossom trees and saw them flitting from branch to branch. He carried Haven over to the fountain, set her down, and sat down beside her. He kicked off his shoes so he could feel the grass on the soles of his feet.

He felt the sun on his face and closed his eyes. When he did, he heard a strange, distorted sound. His eyelids flew open, and the distorted sound stopped. His Cochlear nerve shifted, and the chorus of the birds and the falling water of the fountain once again filled his ears. He petted Haven and she laid her head in his lap. He looked across the rolling grass where brown bunnies hopped around and chased each other.

In the distance, something caught his eye. He studied it trying to make out what it was. It looked familiar but he was unsure. He reached out to his side and felt Haven’s leash curled beside him. He fastened it to Haven’s harness and started walking towards the object with his little dog leading the way. As he approached it, he realized it was a large ornate chair. As he moved around it, he found it was empty as if it were waiting for something or someone to sit on it. Haven trotted over, put her paws on the seat and stood on her hind legs wagging her tail and examining this odd piece of furniture.

“Haven, get down,” Curtis said.

Haven ignored him and hopped up in the seat and sat there wagging her tail.

“Come on. Let’s get down.”

Haven laid down on her stomach, put her head on her paws, and looked up at him with forlorn eyes.

“Cuteness will get you nowhere.”

Curtis reached over to lift her off the chair, but she hopped out of his hands and sat back down as if to say she wasn’t going anywhere. He sighed and sat down on the grass beside her. He closed his eyes and heard the strange, distorted sounds again. His eyes flew open, and the sounds stopped.

Bexley’s plane descended from the sky and landed on the tarmac at exactly 6:00am. She had her small carry-on under the seat in front of her and her larger carry-on with wheels in the bin above. She was sitting in front, and she knew as soon as first class got off the plane she would be inside the airport in no time. Although it was a short flight, she managed to sleep most of the way. The plane had less passengers on it than she’d anticipated.

She looked out the window as the jet’s wheels coasted to a stop. She took her ear plugs out of her ears, reached down and retrieved her small carry-on bag. She stood up, set it on her seat, stepped out into the aisle, grabbed her larger carry-on from the bin above her, and set it on the ground. This was no small task as the carry-on was weighed down with souvenirs she had picked up while in Palm Springs. She stood there waiting for the first-class passengers to disembark. Then she slipped the strap of the small carry-on over her shoulder and dragged her matching larger carry-on behind her as she headed to the front of the plane where she said goodbye to the flight attendants and the vaguely sleezy-looking pilots. She traversed down the jet bridge and arrived at the small airport.

As she headed out the sliding glass doors and stood outside waiting for her shuttle to arrive, she realized how much colder it was here than Palm Springs. Not as cold as winter, but there was a misty rain, and the sky was a somber shade of grey. She regretted giving her phone number to that tall guy who always wore his baseball hat backwards and sported sleeveless white t-shirts with that California microbrew insignia on the back. She also shouldn’t have given her number to that bodybuilder who was always sticking a bottle cap between his thumb and forefinger and snapping it trying to determine how far it would sail through the air. And she never should have given her number to that annoying short guy with the nasal voice who kept following her all around the beach. Note to self: change phone number today.

Bexley was surprised at how empty the shuttle was when she boarded it. The only other passenger was a young woman her own age. The woman had bleach blonde frosted curls, a light tan, and sported an anklet that looked like a friendship bracelet and three gold hoops in each ear. When the young woman sat down, she turned to Bexley and said, “Heading back for Spring Quarter?”

Bexley studied the woman a moment and said, “Something like that.”

“I’m going to end up going Summer Quarter this year too.”

“That sucks.”

“Tell me about it. I had to drop a couple classes this year, so I need to make them up somehow, right?”

Bexley shrugged. “What are you going to do?”

“I know, right?”

The shuttle pulled into a place called The Coconut Express where both women had parked their cars. Bexley and the woman didn’t say anything else to each other. They just got off the shuttle, retrieved their bags, and tipped the driver. Bexley headed to her lime green Fiat, stuck her carry-ons in the trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat. She headed out to the freeway en route to the Dupree Tax Agency before she got off at the second exit.

She drove up to a bikini barista coffee stand called Kitty Cat Cappuccino. She’d worked at one outside of town a few years ago before getting a receptionist job. In truth, with tips she’d made more slinging coffee than she made answering phones. But she’d gotten tired of the clientele. One guy who’d really irritated her was, ironically, not some dude who drove an oversized pickup truck blasting Blake Shelton and Jelly Roll but rather a respectable lawyer in a Tesla who was fond of single-breasted suits and two-hundred-dollar haircuts. He had an annoying habit of reaching out of his car window, pinching the side of her bikini bottoms and snapping them back.

After a week of putting up with his shenanigans, she went to HotSauceRUs.com and purchased a small bottle of Da Bomb Evolution hot sauce. If you are not familiar with Da Bomb Evolution hot sauce it only requires a few drops to be brutal. When Mr. Tesla unassumingly drove up to the window of Kitty Cat Cappuccino, reached out and predictably snapped her bikini bottoms, Bexley had turned and smiled at him as she handed him his triple iced mocha. Turns out, Mr. Tesla’s mocha was not as iced as he thought that day as it contained no less than fifteen drops of Da Bomb Evolution which, as you may have guessed dear reader, blew his mind. He crashed his car into a stop sign, and after a 911 call made by a volunteer at a local women’s shelter, the drink landed him in the emergency room.

After tipping the barista a proper twenty percent, Bexley drove back onto the freeway and headed for the Dupree Tax Agency. At precisely seven fifty-five AM, she parked her lime green Fiat in the back parking lot of the Dupree Tax Agency, hopped out of her car, and headed to the front door with her keys.

“I’m back, she said tromping I in her black Birkenstocks she’d worn on the plane and her black summer cashmere t-shirt and charcoal colored Lucky Brand jeans with the Treasure and Bond black leather belt with the large gold tone oval buckle. She was greeted with the unexpected sound of silence. As she looked around she found the office to be vacant. She stepped up and set her drink from Kitty Cat Cappucino on the receptionist desk and wandered into the break room. Everything looked organized and in its place. She headed back out into the office area but still no one was at their desk. “Hello? Is anyone here? Hello?”

Suddenly, the door to Mr. Dupree’s office opened and Bexley heard whimpering. There was a light scuffling sound and then Mr. Dupree stepped outside his office and started descending the stairs. When he saw Bexley he said, “Looks like you’re back from vacation. And you got a little sun, I see.”

Bexley looked past him and saw Fia descending the stairs. In her arms she held a tiny Yorkshire Terrier puppy. The dog appeared to be a runt and had a bright red bow tied in its hair between its ears. “Is that yours, Fia?”

Fia looked at Bexley and her eyes widened. “It’s a gift,” she said.

“For whom?”

“I’m glad you’re back, Bexley,” Mr. Dupree said.

“Thank you, Dallas.” Bexley looked around at the empty office. “So…what did I miss?”

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad 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 DIG (2021)-NETFLIX

This Netflix original is a wonderful period piece about a widowed woman and her young son on the eve of WWII. It is well-directed by Simon Stone with a screenplay by Moira Buffini based on the novel of the same name by John Preston.

Edith Pretty (Carrie Mulligan) lives on a large estate in Sutton Hoo she and her deceased husband purchased that may be a site for an archeological excavation due to the large burial mounds on the property. Edith hires excavator and self-taught archeologist Basil Brown (Ralph Fiennes) to see what he can dig up there. Basil is hesitant at first because Edith is not able to pay him a large enough wage to cover his costs, but through the persistence of Edith’s young son Robert Pretty (Archie Barnes) and Edith’s offer to pay him a larger sum, he decides to give it a try.

After digging for a while Basil finds iron rivets which he believes may be from a ship that could date back to the Anglo Saxons and not the Vikings. Edith has the museum experts come in and they doubt Robert’s findings as such ships would be very old. Edith insists Basil continue leading the excavation and her cousin Rory Lomax (Johnny Flynn) is brought in to assist Basil. News of the dig reaches Cambridge archaeologist Charles Philips (Ken Stott) who declares the dig to be of national importance after Basil and Rory believe they have found a ship. Philips calls in the Office of Works to take over and brings in a larger team including newlyweds Stuart Ernest Piggott (Ben Chaplin) and Peggy Piggott (Lily James).