Down Home Articles

photo credit: jeffedoe

Baby Lou Kennedy had been looking for a glass table and chairs for more than a year. Well, she wasn’t actually putting a lot of energy into her search. Truthfully, she was kind of hoping to find one cheap at a garage sale. Lots of people had been moving this summer—trying to get away from the city before a mandatory hurricane evacuation was declared. Nobody wanted to go through another Katrina., One afternoon when she was having a glass of wine with Artemise, she decided to ask her where she had found the little table that sat between the wicker chairs here on the sun porch. “Babe, where did you ever get this cute little table? I mean, really it is the cutest thing and so practical. And, I can even see Fluffs sleeping on her pillow underneath.” “You will never believe where I got it. When those eccentric writer friends of mine had to leave town so quickly, they just gave it to me.”

Normally I wouldn’t reveal the sources of in research, but in this instance I made an exception. The agent in charge, an oily, overweight factotum from headquarters, wanted to meet at the Half Shell café and interview me about my discoveries. I reluctantly agreed to his request, but I wondered if I had compromised myself by arriving soon at a public place. Once I was inside, I immediately spied the factotum seated next to a glass coffee table

photo credit: 27147

. He was noisily gulping water and fingering his service revolver under the left lapel of his coat. I walked quickly to the empty seat on the far edge of the coffee table and slapped down my folder of revealing data. The factotum withdrew a large, white handkerchief from the breast pocket of the cheap suit and mopped his mouth. I sadly realized that I was in his moist clutches.