as he removed his hat and entered the building.
Bunny was typing furiously on her computer when T.J. approached. “Good afternoon,” he said. “I'm T.J. Yates. I'm here to see Miss Starr.”
T.J.'s down-home charm temporarily memorized Bunny. When she was able to compose herself, Bunny said, “Ms. Starr. Not Miss.”
An awkward moment of silence went by as the two studied each other. Finally T.J. said, “Would you let Ms. Starr know I'm here?”
“She's very busy,” said Bunny.
T.J. held up a manila envelope. “I have some documents I need to speak with her about.”
Bunny reached her hand out to take the envelope but T.J. pulled back. “I'd really like to speak with Ms. Starr,” he said. “I made a trip all the way from Galesburg.”
“The birthplace of Carl Sandburg,” Bunny said. “The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.”
Bunny reddened with sudden embarrassment. “I'm studying English,” she said. “I’m a night student.”
T.J. grinned.
“I'll see what I can do for you.” Bunny gave him a quick smile then whispered into the intercom.
After what seemed like an eternity, T.J glanced at his watch for the thousandth time and sighed.
Finally, Lucinda graced him with her presence. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said.
“Are you really?” T.J. asked.
“No,” Lucinda snapped.
“I didn't think so.”
“What do you want, Mr. Yates?”
“Can we speak somewhere a bit more private?”
Lucinda was about to protest until she looked into T.J.'s determined eyes. “I only have a minute,” she said.
As Lucinda led T.J. into the rat breeding area, he was horrified by the sight of hundreds of caged rats. Then the little guillotine caught his attention. “I don't even what to know what that's for,” he remarked.
“And I was just getting ready to give you a demonstration,” Lucinda said.
“I came here to talk about your mom.”
Lucinda sighed.
T.J. continued, “There are certain issues with regards to her estate that I need to discuss with you.”
“I'll make sure her cats are all placed in good homes.”
“It's more complicated than that.”
“If you just leave the paperwork with me, I'll sign it and make whatever arrangements are necessary for the disposal of my mother's personal effects.” Lucinda straightened her lab coat and made a not-so-subtle motion for T.J. to leave.
T.J. smiled to himself. He shoved the manila envelope into Lucinda's hand then made a show of placing his cowboy hat on his head. “After you've read the will, if you have any questions, be sure to give me a holler,” he said then chuckled to himself as he exited.
Everything in Lucinda’s entire studio apartment was white. Clinical. Sterile. There was no evidence of life except for Lucinda herself, in a white sweat suit, lounging on her couch. She sipped a glass of Pinot noir, closed her eyes for a moment then took a deep breath. She grabbed the manila envelope from the coffee table, opened it then glanced at the contents. She took another sip of wine as she read the documents more closely—then spit the red liquid all over everything.
“A hundred million dollars,” she shouted.
A moment later, Lucinda was on her cell phone.
T.J. was sitting on a rocking chair, gazing at the night sky with Dakota curled up at his feet, when his cell phone rang.
“Took her longer than I thought,” he said to Dakota, who merely sighed.
He answered his cell. “This is T.J.”
“How in the world did my mother make a hundred million dollars?” Lucinda yelled into the phone.
T.J. said, “I guess you'll have to make your way down to Galesburg to find out,” and hung up on her.
Lucinda stared at her phone with a look of utter disbelief. No one had ever hung up on her before.
Back in the lab the following day, Reno began to sway as Lucinda piled stacks of files into his arms.
“You'll need to take measurements every day,” said Lucinda.
“I know,” Reno replied.
“Three times an hour,” Lucinda continued.
“I know,” Reno repeated.
Another file joined the stack weighing down Reno's arms.
“And don't forget to document every change, not matter how minute,” Lucinda said.
“I'm really sorry to hear about your mom.”
“We weren't close.”
“Galesburg is the birthplace of Carl Sandburg,” Reno said in an effort to change the subject. “They have a museum there, if you have time.”
“Could my mother have picked a worse time to die? I have my dissertation defense in less than a month and I'm still finalizing the analysis of my data. I'm going to drive down there, work out the details, make whatever arrangements are necessary then drive back. I shouldn't be gone more than eight hours.”
“I'll take care of everything while you're away,” Reno assured her. “You just worry about your mom.”
Lucinda’s Mini-Cooper Convertible passed a sign that read: Leaving Chicago. A few hours later, she passed a sign that read: Welcome to Galesburg—Birthplace of Carl Sandburg. “Boy, do I hate the country,” she said.
The Mini Cooper came to a stop outside an old shack of a building and Lucinda hopped out of the car. She glanced at the building's sign: T.J. Yates Attorney at Law. “This must be the place,” Lucinda grunted as she entered the office.
Lucinda immediately noticed Dakota lying on a pillow in the corner, snoring. “Some watchdog,” she remarked.
Dakota merely glanced up at her and sighed.
Lucinda noticed a bell sitting on the desk. She rang it. Nothing happened, so she rang it again.
“I'm out back,” a voice boomed.
Lucinda scanned the room and spotted an open back door. She exited on to a back porch, where she could see T.J. working on an old Chevy.
“Is this a law office or a body shop?” Lucinda asked sarcastically.
T.J. freed himself from the vehicle and stood. “Well, look who made it all the way to Galesburg.”
Lucinda folded her arms in front of her. “I don't have much time,” she said.
Grabbing a cloth, T.J. wiped the dirt from his hands. “You left city-time back in Chicago, Ms. Starr. You're on country time now. We do things a little different here in Galesburg. Can I offer you some sweet tea?”
“If you would just answer a few questions for me, then I'll be on my way.”
“I guess you didn't get a chance to read the entire document I left with you. Why don't we have a seat inside? Get out of the heat.”
The two walked back into T.J.’s office. T.J. made himself comfortable and rested his old boots on top of the weathered Mahogany desk.
While Lucinda wiggled uncomfortably in an old folding chair, Dakota ambled over and rested her head in Lucinda's lap. She gave the creature a look of utter disgust.