Wednesday, June 13, 2018

You Know, He Wrote 'The Jungle Book'

Rascal walked over to the store, stepped up on the porch. He reached above the double screen doors and pulled down a key.

"Don't we need to call the landlord?"


"But this is trespassing."


They walked into the front office where everything was covered with a good half inch of dirt. Larry walked around, opened doors, measured the size of the main room. With that he stood up, "This will do."

"Do for what?"

"For the new Sheriff's station."

"Seriously, I'd like to know what part of this is 'new'?"

"Well, I meant as a 'new' location."

"Until the new one is built."

Larry continued walking around measuring windows and door widths. Almost as an after thought he said,"Oh, I doubt they will ever build that new building."

"Well, why in the Hell are you here?"

"To find you a 'new' location."

"If you think I am going to move my office and my staff into this place, you are nuts. We are just fine where we are."

"But, sir . . ."

"But nothing, we have no more business here. I need to go to the bank. I'm sure you can find your way back to old station." He turned, and as if it were an after thought said," Don't worry about locking up. I'll do that later." The Sheriff walked out.

Larry followed him out, not saying a word. He turned and walked back toward the station. The Sheriff said loudly, "Don't waste my time coming here again unless you have our congressman with you carrying a check!"

The Sheriff had no business with the bank. He just knew if he spent 1 more minute with that Bean Counter, he would explode. No doubt his blood pressure was out of the roof now.

Meanwhile, Larry made his way back to the station. He walked in and Mary Lou realized he was alone, she asked, "What did you do with the Sheriff?"

"Oh, he had to go to the bank."

He picked up the canvas bag he had left on a table in Mary Lou's office. He turned to see this rather eccentric lady come tripping down the stairs, dressed in a long black gown, black gloves and a black veil that dropped from her head to the tips of her fingers. Larry could not make out her face under the veil..

At the bottom of the staircase, she spoke to Mary Lou, "I'm off, don't wait up for me."

Mary Lou nodded, "Be careful."

Before Ada Mae got to the front door, Larry asked, "I hope a family or close friend did not die."

Before Mary Lou could answer, Ada Mae stuck her head in the door. "Not family, he was a dear friend."

Curious about who had died, Mary Lou looked at her, "I'm sorry, who died?"

"Rudyard, but he had a grand life."


"Yes, Kipling, Rudyard Kipling. I'm afraid I'm late, toodle loo." With that she left.

Mary Lou offered no explanation.

"Kipling,?The writer's family lives around here."

"Goodness gracious no." She went back to her work, hoping Larry would leave. There was an uncomfortable silence as he stood there holding his canvas bag.

Finally he spoke,"May, I ask who she was referring to?"

Without looking up, Mary Lou kept typing and answered him. "Rudyard Kipling, surely you know the writer?"

"The only Rudyard Kipling was the man who wrote 'The Jungle Book"?"

Still looking down, Mary Lou answered, "The same one." Larry just stood there. Mary Lou could not help but add, "You know he won a Nobel Prize."

"Yes, but that was a while ago."

"I think 1907."

With that Larry walked quickly out of the office. He wasn't sure if the house was haunted and he had seen the ghost, or if he had had too much coffee.

As soon as the door closed, Mary Lou couldn't help but laugh. The Sheriff walked in, "What is so funny? Did I miss something?"

Mary Lou shared Larry's encounter with Ada Mae.

The Sheriff shook his head as he hung up his hat, "I only wish I had been here to see that."

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