Chapter 3: The Weasel, the FBI, and a Doctor

In the morning, Linda awoke and sat up in bed feeling refreshed for the first time in days. The stress of not having enough money, no job, and no safe place to live was slowly fading. She could work on her living arrangements today. First things first though. Her empty tummy and caffeine deprived brain were both clamoring for attention.

After morning wake up detail in the bathroom, Linda donned a clean pair of shorts and a T-shirt, pair of socks and her soon to be copyrighted attack-sneakers. Linda headed downstairs, locking the door behind her.

An older woman, about fifty as a guess, was manning the front desk today.

Linda asked, “Where’s Tommy?” as she handed the woman a dollar and picked up today’s paper.

“This is his day off,” was the surly response.

The woman snatched the dollar out of Linda’s hand and it disappeared from view as the she returned to reading what appeared to be a trashy romance novel. At least with a name like ‘The Pirate and the Governor’s Daughter’ with a lurid front cover of some handsome half-naked pirate, arm around a busty blonde showing lots of cleavage suggested.

Linda just rolled her eyes, tucked the paper up under her arm and headed out for coffee and a doughnut. Walking up to Starbucks, she received no mental warnings of danger, so she relaxed and looked around. Not much of interest on the two and a half block walk up to breakfast. Just normal people going about the start of a routine work day.

She did look around to see if the tall monster-man was around anywhere. No luck today. He must be in hiding. Linda giggled to herself.

At Starbucks, she treated herself to another Latte, with extra foam, and picked out a glazed doughnut today. Choosing a seat at an empty table, Linda opened the paper and began reading. ‘The Back Alley Killer’ still took up space on the front cover of the news. This time, it did mention the police were looking for a tall, muscular man as a ‘person of interest.’ No explanation as to why they were looking for him though. Someone at Police Headquarters must have leaked the story. Looks like the President wasn’t the only one dealing with leaks. She wondered what would happen if she called the story ‘Fake News’ and laughed. Got to take our giggles where we find them.

Turning to the rooms for rent section, Linda saw several possibilities. The most promising, so far, was an ad for a furnished room, non-smoker, ladies only, with a phone number. Five hundred fifty dollars a month, no pets.

Linda got out her cheap pay-by-the-month phone and dialed the number. A woman answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello, I’m calling about your room for rent in today’s paper,” Linda said. “My name is Linda Spencer.”

The woman on the other end said “The room is still available. I’m picky about who I allow in my house. Too many perverts and jerks out there nowadays. You do understand it’s five hundred fifty a month? There’s a two hundred dollar cleaning and damage deposit. No smoking, no pets, no drugs and no loud music. Make that no loud boyfriends in the house either. It does include breakfast, if you wake up on time in the morning. The room is furnished with a double bed, two chairs, a vanity and chest-of-drawers. You have one shelf in the refrigerator and cooking privileges as long as you clean up after yourself. There’s also an attached private bathroom. The room is on the second floor. I live on the main floor. Two other bedrooms upstairs are already rented out to college girls.”

“Sounds just about perfect. I’m eighteen years old and just graduated from high school. No money for college, so I’m going to work for a living. I have enough money already to survive for a few months or so while I look for work, but I plan to be employed as quickly as I can find a job. I’ve never smoked, I don’t drink or use drugs, no boyfriend and no pets.”

“The address is 810 Prospect Street. I’ll have to interview you in person, but so far we might have an agreement here,” the potential landlady said.

“I can make it out there before lunch time, if that’s convenient?”

“Yes, that will work fine. I’ll even feed you lunch if you don’t mind soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.”

“I’ll be there.”

After hanging up the phone, Linda smiled. Things were definitely looking up. The furnished room sounded just right and with her new influx of money, the price was acceptable.

After finishing her breakfast and Latte, Linda caught the trolley to the credit union. She was going to need some more cash with a first and last plus deposit for the room. Thirteen hundred dollars total if the lady wanted both. She hadn’t said, but it was better to go prepared. She didn’t want to lose the room just because she was short on money.

In the credit union Linda decided to take the funds out of her deposit box instead of checking or savings. Leave the visible cash where it is, and use the hidden cash when she could. Sounded like her own version of money laundering to Linda. She wondered idly while waiting for Melody to return from somewhere, if the local community college taught classes on money laundering. Probably not. At least not as a credit course anyway. When she got a computer and internet access, maybe Mr. Google could help.

All Melody could talk about was the attempted robbery the day before. Linda just nodded her head at appropriate moments and listened.

“I was so scared,” said Melody. “I thought for sure they were going to kill us all. Kathy even peed her pants. Mr. Sullivan was crying, too. I was silently begging the boss to just open the damn vault and give them what they wanted so they could leave. Then they all started dying. No one has any idea what happened. First one guy falls down holding his chest, then the other guy behind the teller cage grabs his throat and starts flopping around. The guy with the manager was the strangest of all. He just collapsed completely on the floor and couldn’t move. He lived for a bit, but he just died staring at the manager. Took him a couple minutes too. I overheard one of the cops say it looked like the guy was paralyzed. I wanted to go over and kick him, for scaring me so much, but I didn’t.”

Linda had been there so she already knew what happened but realized Melody just needed to vent. “Good idea. Kicking dead men probably hurts your toes. You’re right, though, a very strange bank robbery indeed.” ‘Maybe I can design fashionable steel-toed loafers. Must be a market for that,’ Linda mused.

“Yes, even the police were baffled. You already know, since you were here. They kept questioning us over and over. Trying to get someone to change the story. Facts are facts though. Can’t change the truth. I heard one guy had a crushed throat, the other one a massive total heart attack and the third guy, like I said, was paralyzed. Imagine that. How could something like that ever happen?”

“Maybe the credit union has protective ghosts.”

Melody looked around the room with big, worried eyes. “You think so?” She whispered. So the ‘ghosts‘ wouldn’t hear her.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Nothing else fits the situation, does it?”

“Damn. I’m going to ask for a transfer to another branch. Closer to where I live.”

“Good idea.”

“Alright, let’s get your box out so you can get on with your business,” Melody whispered.

“Remember, they are probably friendly, bank protecting ghosts, not dangerous ones.”

“But now, after they killed someone, maybe they aren’t protective anymore,” Melody whispered.

They got the deposit box out on the table again and Linda took it to the private room where she removed thirteen hundred dollars. Then she went back out to get Melody so they could lock it back up. Another girl was sitting at Melody’s desk.

“Where’s Melody?”

“She, umm, was mumbling something about ‘Ghost Busters’ then got sick and went home,” said the new girl. Her name-tag read ‘Kathy”. Linda imagined her wetting her pants, and smiled.

After they replaced the deposit box, Linda waved at Loretta and went out to catch the trolley to the transit center where she could transfer to a bus bound for Prospect Street and hopefully, her new home.

The bus to Prospect Street arrived right on schedule and Linda rode it out close to the address Mrs. Landlady gave her. 810 Prospect. Sounded like an omen for her future. Good Prospects.

The bus was mostly empty now that the morning rush was gone. Still, there were seven other people on board, but no one paid attention to Ms. Mouse.

The bus stop was only a short block away from 810 and an easy walk for Linda. She stepped up on the porch and knocked on the door. The house looked clean and well maintained. Yard was in good condition and the street didn’t have any junk cars parked in the neighborhood.

The door opened and a chubby, middle aged woman stood behind the screen door and said “Yes? I don’t allow any solicitors here. Just go on about your business and leave me alone.”

“Hello, Ma’am. I’m Linda. I called earlier about the room for rent?” Linda offered with a smile.

“Oh, yes, I’ve been expecting you. Just in time for lunch too. Please come in,” said Mrs. Landlady.

Linda walked into the house. The living room was clean and as well cared for as the outside. Comfortable furniture filled the room without giving the feeling of being crowded. Pictures on the fireplace mantle suggested a husband and three kids. Judging by the apparent age of Mrs. Landlady, the kids were long gone to live their own lives, and start working on providing grandchildren. There was no evidence of a live-in husband. The room just felt feminine without screaming pink and frilly.

Linda followed Mrs. Landlady to the kitchen where two plates were set on the table with spoons, bowls and coffee cups.

Mrs. Landlady said “Please call me Carla. Carla Thomas. How do you take your coffee, Linda?”

“Loaded. Milk, cream, sugar, half-n-half, whatever you have is fine. I prefer adding a little coffee to my milk and sugar.”

Carla brought over the coffee carafe and poured both cups full, just leaving room at the top to add fixin’s, then brought a silver serving set for cream and sugar.

“I’ll just get our soup and sandwiches. Everything is ready. I hope you like home-made Cream of Potato soup.”

“Sounds delicious,” Linda said as she doctored her cup of coffee.

Carla served lunch and the two ate the good food provided. Linda was impressed. Everything was perfect, and she let Carla know just how fantastic it tasted.

After lunch, Carla said, “I think you will do just fine. Let’s go upstairs and you can see the room.”

In the bedroom, Linda was impressed with the furnishings, the carpet, the nice smell of flowers in a clean, well-cared for room. The window was open to the backyard and she could see the origin of the flowery smell in the room. Lots of well tended roses were in the backyard. After checking the bathroom and finding a clean commode, roomy shower and a vanity shelf with sink, Linda said “I would love to live here Mrs. Thomas. Everything is perfect.”

“Good. I’m impressed with you, young lady. When would you like to move in?”

“I need a day or two is all. I don’t own much.”

“Let’s go downstairs and fill out the rental agreement, figure out the pro-rated first month’s rent and the deposit.”

As soon as she stepped out the front door to go back downtown, Linda knew something was wrong. Hunger, sexual hunger. Anger. Fear.

Odd, though. The raw emotions weren’t directed at her. They were directed at a little boy, maybe five or six years old, across the street riding his tricycle.

Shit! Pedophile!

Linda saw a white panel van pull up beside the small boy. A man burst from the car, ran around to the rear of the van and opened the double doors. He had on a ski-mask and gloves. Pedophile guy snatched the child, picking him up and covering his mouth to prevent screams from attracting help. The kid kicked and waved his arms around, but to no avail.

It was all happening too fast. Linda looked around quickly. No one was on the street who could save the child. It was all up to her. Ms. Mouse arrived with a vengeance! She was going to terminate Pedophile Man with extreme prejudice. Reaching with her mind, into his body, mentally grabbing his guts, she twisted and broke them. Ripping and tearing at the soft, slimy intestines, bursting them open and filling his body cavity with feces. That would kill him. Terminal sepsis! Now for the fun part. Ms. Mouse crushed his testicles. Both of his nuts turned into Pedophile Hamburger. Now that the child was safe and Mr. Pedophile lay on the street screaming and holding his balls, Linda strolled down to the bus stop and waited for the next ride back to downtown. Even if by some miracle the guy lived, he would never have the gonads to abuse children again.

Ten minutes later, just as her bus pulled up, three police cars came sirening their way up the street, stopping with a screech of tires near Mr. Pedophile. There was already a crowd of people standing around watching him. No one offered any help. The child had been escorted into a home and safety.

As the bus drove past the scene, Linda couldn’t help but smile. “My work here is done,” she murmured to herself. Ms. Mouse really can roar!

Ms. Mouse: 6

Bad Guys: 0

Nothing else of interest happened on the way home and Linda entered the hotel and walked up to the female desk clerk. “I will be checking out, tomorrow.”

The lady looked up from her book and checked the register. “That’s a bit early. You paid for a full week. No refunds.”

“No worries. Just letting you know I’m leaving.”

Linda went over to the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing. Nada.

“It’s broken. Again. Use the stairs.”

After she got back in her room, Linda picked up one of her apples and started munching on it. She was a bit confused about why she felt nothing inside when she killed bad guys, except satisfaction. Linda suspected that wasn’t quite normal behavior. Most ordinary folks would get sick and vomit, or freak out screaming and crying ‘n’ stuff like that. Linda preferred to kick the dead bodies. “Oh snap! I need to go shoe shopping soon. Maybe this afternoon at the mall. I could catch a taxi and run out to South Central Mall,” she said. Never been there before, but I bet they have shoes for sale, Linda thought to herself.

There was a knock at the door. Linda wondered, who the hell could that be? Might be Detectives Dumb and Dumber. Maybe they caught Mr. Tall and Powerful and were coming to let everyone know it was safe to walk in filthy back-alleys now. Linda got up off her chair and walked to the door, slid the deadbolt and opened the door.