Big Ed wrapped a tuna salad on whole wheat in a sheet of wax paper and shouted, “PIPPI LONGSTOCKING!”
An elderly woman wearing thick glasses shuffled up to the counter. “I was a redhead, once upon a time.”
“And you’re still as hot as a chili pepper.” Big Ed winked as his customer accepted her sandwich with a delighted grin.
I liked Big Ed. Opening my bag of chips, I leaned against the counter as though I had all the time in the world to chat. “Was there animosity between Flora and Marlette?”
Big Ed spooned hot meatballs onto a hoagie. “I should think so. Flora called the cops on Marlette a few times. He liked to hang around the Wonderland Playground. It’s where all the moms take their kids to play, and Flora thought it was creepy that Marlette would sit on a bench and watch them for hours on end.” He topped the meatballs with shredded Romano cheese and garnished the mound with a sprinkle of fresh oregano.
“MICHELANGELO!”
A man wearing coveralls dotted with paint splatters appeared at the counter. “You’re giving me too much credit, Big Ed. I just paint houses, my man.”
“You never know, Bobby.” Big Ed smiled and began to assemble another sandwich. Glancing at me, he continued his story. “Flora accused Marlette of acting like a pedophile. She tried to get the parents riled up to the point of having Marlette banned from the park as a public nuisance or something ridiculous like that.”
He placed the next order on the counter. “WALT DISNEY!”
I was entirely focused on Big Ed’s story, but the name made me raise my brows. I was surprised that Big Ed had chosen Mickey Mouse’s creator to appear on one of his cards.
“What?” Big Ed gestured at the middle-aged woman collecting her sandwich as if he’d read my mind. “You don’t consider Walt here an inspiration? He’s one of the most inspirational people in history.”
Crunching on a potato chip, I nodded in agreement. “Some of my happiest memories are of taking my son to Disney World, but back to Marlette. I only met him today, and I could tell he wasn’t a child predator. Why did Flora go out of her way to try to get him banished from the park?”
Big Ed shrugged. “I’m not going to trash-talk your coworker, Eliza. Let’s just say that Flora has an image of how things should be. Comes from reading nothing but kids’ books, I guess, but her idea of a children’s park did not include a vagrant, so she spent a great deal of time trying to make him disappear.”
“She wanted the children’s park to be like those green and lovely places from a Tasha Tudor or Beatrix Potter book,” I murmured. “Talk about preserving one’s fantasy.”
Big Ed didn’t answer, and I realized that I’d lingered at the counter long enough. After wishing him a good day, I found a shady spot on the patio, unwrapped my Hamlet, and pulled the romance novel entitled Can’t Take the Heat from my bag.
I examined the pair of bare-chested firemen on the cover and hoped I’d have enough time to read through chapter three before my lunch hour was over.
THE FIFTIETH QUERY fluttered to the table. Another one for the rejection folder. Another form letter to mail out. I’d only placed three in the possibilities file. Stretching my back, I glanced in dismay at the two remaining piles, having placed the letters in stacks of twenty-five to better track my progress. It was almost six o’clock, and I didn’t see any possible way to meet my quota of one hundred queries even though I’d already read and made comments on the two proposal packets for today. Would Bentley fire me for not having read all the queries?
“Hey, Lila, time to call it quits.” Zach, who’d suddenly appeared in front of me, snapped his fingers and pointed to the stairs. “It’s the weekend, baby!”
“But I haven’t finished my quota.”
He stared at the piles of paper. “Don’t worry about that. Finish up at home. You don’t want to be sitting in the office on a Friday night, do you?”
“No.” And I had a mission before catching the seven o’clock train back to Dunston. Franklin had told me that the previous intern, Addison Eckhart, was now employed at the town’s garden center. I wanted to talk to her about Marlette and his mysterious query letters. Having phoned the Secret Garden, I discovered that Addison would be working until eight tonight. “You’re right. I can do these at home.” I gathered up the remaining queries.
“Atta girl. See you Monday.” He bounded down the stairs.
I tidied my workspace, hoping Bentley would see fit to give me a proper desk on Monday, and put the unread queries into my bag. I looked around. Should I just leave? Everyone except Franklin was already gone. I knocked on his door.
“I’m going now,” I said, as it swung open.
Franklin looked up from his desk. “Sure, sure. Have a good weekend.”