Hello, and welcome to the Christmas season! I love this time of year. Disgruntled shoppers, angry drivers, and people droning on about the overcommercialization of Christmas have no effect on me as I put on my ugly sweater for the seventh day in a row, sip hot chocolate, and wish everyone within hearing range a ‘Merry Christmas!’ before I get tackled to the ground by the Political Correctness Police. Yes, it’s a good time of the year. I hope you have a happy season.
By the way, each Saturday of December, I will be posting a video on Youtube of me playing a beloved Christmas song on a ukulele. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org to tell me what Christmas song you want to hear next!
Oh, yeah. And Thanks for reading too. 🙂 -BW
“What? You mean it wasn’t Lennard?”
“That,” Tannenbaum said, seating himself, “in an understatement.”
David Marcus shrugged.
“Don’t blame me. I only know what my police network says. Who was it, some innocent?”
Tannenbaum frowned slightly.
Marcus stared silently for a moment, and after exhaling noisily, motioned to the stack of paperwork on his cluttered desk.
“Well, if you have nothing else to say, I would like to get back to my job if you don’t mind.”
Tannenbaum resettled himself more comfortably in his chair.
“Oh, you’re not bothering me. Go on with your work.”
Marcus smiled sarcastically at what he knew was not intended to be funny.
“Seriously, what are you doing here in my office? You never come to my office unless you have a definite purpose in mind, or have a specific request. Why are you here?”
“I suppose you could say that I’m hiding from a houseguest.”
“Oh.” Marcus said. “I understand. Sometimes my sister has her friends over until all hours of the night. It’s almost enough to drive me absolutely nuts. If I were a compassionate person, I would say that you can come and hide in my office any time you want, but I’m not. So, go away and leave me alone.”
David Marcus lowered his head to his paperwork, and then raised it suddenly.
“Hey, who is your houseguest? I’ve never known you to have guests before.”
“You could say he’s not exactly an innocent, but he might be.”
“That makes no sense at all.”
“I realize that.”
The phone on Marcus’s desk rang loudly, and he answered it. A muffled and buzzing voice spoke on the line, and Marcus began to protest halfheartedly, but gave in at the end of the conversation.
“I have to go, Tannenbaum.” Marcus said after he hung up the phone. “I have orders to assist at a hostage situation.”
“Yeah, it’s the one on the news. An armed robbery at a gas station went sour.” Marcus pointed through his office window to a television screen in the desk section of the homicide department. The same balding detective that had spoken to Marcus was standing by the TV set, watching the proceedings. Tannenbaum recognized the service station that flashed by as the one within walking distance of his house.
Marcus continued talking absentmindedly.
“Yeah, I guess there’s no one inside the gas station but the attendant and some kid trying to buy soda.” he said.
His face grim, Tannenbaum took stock of the facts he dared not face.
Gas station within walking distance of my house?
Kid trying to buy soda?
Come again on every Tuesday and Saturday! -BW