I looked around, and nobody seemed to be paying attention, I crept into Jack’s HQ, strictly off-limits to ground-
pounders, for the first time. I gingerly picked up his hand-set and quietly pushed the flashing extension light with
the small black-and-white plastic “Jack” label under it.
Copyright © 2007 by Michael Domino
July 10, 2007
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“Hello,” I said in my gruffest imitation-
leatherneck voice.
The voice on the other end was female, with a
thick accent. “Yak, dahling, this is Zha-Zha. Are you
awl right, dahling? Whitey called me this morning
and told me that the two of you were out last night
with Mickey and Yake at Billy’s and you slipped on
the ice getting into the cab and had to go to the
hospital. Yak, dahling, are you awl right?”
I slid my hand over the receiver and gently
placed the phone back into its cradle and backed
out of Jack’s office, closing the door behind me until I
heard the latch click into place.
At exactly 8:45 the next morning, Jack Cotton
quick-stepped past my desk with a large white
bandage on his gourd.
“Michelle, get me a cup of rusty old joe, riki-tik.”
