…friend of mine got an opportunity to drive a nitroglycerine truck to Alaska…they named a new canyon after him…
Monroe D. Underwood
At the end of the week a woman came puffing into my office.
She had the demeanor of a Union Pacific four-six-two steam locomotive.
She had the body to go with it.
And the voice.
She slammed her purse onto my desk.
She crashed into the client’s chair.
She said my name is Edna Willock.
I said you got a clear board Edna.
Edna Willock said I want you to follow my husband.
I said is he on the wrong track?
She said he sure is.
She said he tells me lies.
I said maybe we can derail him.
She said he shouldn’t tell me lies.
She said he’s the preacher at Holy Trinity Gospel Joshua and Saint James.
I said I know an engineer on the Chicago Milwaukee Saint Paul and Pacific.
She said he simply got to quit lying.
She said he tells me he is going to see the Cubs play ball tomorrow.
I said how do you know he isn’t?
Edna Willock banged seventy-five dollars down on my desk top.
She said the Cubs are in New York.
She leaned back and shoved her cowcatcher jaw in my direction.
She said that’s how I know.
I said I’ll tail him like a caboose.
Edna Willock said you seem to have trains on your mind.
She chugged out of my office.