The Mysteries of Max: Books 25-27

Chapter 28

Charlene was standing in line at the General Store, feeling a little down in the dumps. She’d never believed it possible, but her sweet police chief boyfriend had actually called her old and ugly.

‘Time to call it quits,’ the little demon on her left shoulder whispered. ‘He’s obviously a big jerk and you should cut your losses now.’

The little angel on her right shoulder countered this by saying, ‘He’s a sweet guy and probably didn’t mean what he said. And besides, isn’t that kind of behavior typical of most men? That they put their foot in their mouth without meaning any harm?’

‘All the more reason to dump his ass,’ said the little demon.

‘But remember how good you are together, Charlene. How kind and loving he’s been.’

‘He called you ugly. Do you really want to stay with a guy who thinks you’re ugly?’

‘Just call him. Talk things through.’

‘Block his calls. Never speak to him again.’

“Aargh,” muttered Charlene, and swept her newly curly tresses over her shoulder.

“What did you say, Madam Mayor?” asked Wilbur Vickery, who was manning the cash register as usual.

“Nothing,” she said. “How much do I owe you?”

“Had a fight with the boyfriend, huh?” said Wilbur.

She’d been in the process of taking out her wallet and paused. “How do you know?”

Wilbur tapped his nose and grinned, showing a row of uneven teeth, decayed from too much smoking and too much snacking on his own store-sold candy. “Wilbur always knows, Madam Mayor. Wilbur makes it his job to know about his favorite customers.”

Charlene, who hated people who talked about themselves in the third person, was in one of those moods where one feels compelled to confide in another human being, even if that human being is Wilbur Vickery, the last man on earth anyone would ever want to confide in.

“My boyfriend called me old,” she said with a deep sigh. “And ugly. Said I wasn’t as pretty as I used to be twenty years ago, and I should simply accept the fact.”

“Alec is a moron,” said Wilbur knowingly. “He doesn’t know how to treat a lovely lady such as yourself.”

Charlene glanced around, and noticed she was all alone in the store. She wasn’t feeling particularly at ease being all alone with Wilbur Vickery, who was grinning even more now, his smile calling up visions of old tombstones—remnants of death and decay.

He’d recently shaved off his beard, she saw, which should have been an improvement over the ratty look he’d sported before. Unfortunately his skin was mottled and pockmarked, and the beard had actually been a boon to the man’s appearance.

“Not all men are like him, though, Charlene,” said Wilbur, getting up from behind the register and semi-casually leaning against the conveyor belt. “There are still men in this world who appreciate beauty.” He gave her a fat wink, not exactly being coy about his intentions.

“That’s great, Wilbur,” she said. “So how much do I owe you?”

“I know the perfect solution,” the shopkeeper said, “to get back at that boyfriend of yours.” He winked at her again and she shivered slightly. “You gotta make ‘em jealous. If for instance you’d go out with another fella, and really work that romance—I’m talking kissing and stuff—right under Chief Alec’s nose, I’ll bet he’ll be sorry he called you ugly.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right,” she murmured.

“Take me, for instance,” he said, tapping his puny chest with a puny fist. “I wouldn’t mind going out with you. Parading under the Chief’s nose. Don’t get me wrong, I respect Alec as a man and an officer of the law. But I’m one of those men that can’t see a lady suffer. And I can see you’re suffering, Charlene,” he added, eyes shiny as he leaned in.

He was puckering up those lips, she now saw, and she recoiled in horror.

“Um, you know what?” she said. “I just remembered I’ve got an urgent appointment.”

“But—”

“Sorry, Wilbur. I’ll have my secretary pick this stuff up, okay? Thanks!”

And with these words, she hurriedly fled the store, leaving a disappointed wannabe Romeo behind. Out in front, she encountered Wilbur’s fat cat, and for a fleeting moment thought she detected a smile on the cat’s broad face. Which of course was impossible.

And as she hurried in the direction of Town Hall, she vowed never to be caught alone with Wilbur again. The man was delusional if he thought he could be her rebound guy.

And as she passed the station, she saw Alec get out of his squad car, looking dejected.

So she held her head up high, and stalked right past the man, without saying a word.

“Charlene,” he bleated feebly. “Hold up—I need to talk to you.”

In response, she tilted her head even higher, hiked her purse up her shoulder, and charged past the man at full speed.

Old and ugly. Huh!

Still, even as she put some distance between herself and her now ex-boyfriend, she felt a pang of pity.

‘Why did you do that, Charlene?’ asked her little angel. ‘You know he’s a good man, with good intentions. Not to mention a great kisser.’

‘Good for you, Charlene,’ said her little demon. ‘Next time you hit him with your purse. That’ll teach him.’

“Oh, go to hell,” she muttered, and stormed into Town Hall.