Calling the Shots
“But instead of beaming peace, good will and whatever to humankind, I was in the depths of despair.My mission was about to go pear-shaped. Lenny had got himself mixed up with rum-running racketeers. If I didn’t find a way to help him, it was more than likely he’d be thrown in jail, Honesty would go back into zombie mode, and the cosmic scoreboard would read PODS: two, Mel Beeby: absolutely nada.As I washed the endless dirty glasses at the club, I racked my brains, trying to think of a solution. ...Maybe I should confront Lenny, tell him I knew what he was up to and advise him to clean up his act, before it was too late? That’s definitely what the human part of me wanted to do. But my inner angel told me to wait just a little longer.One night, Honesty and I were up in the projectionist’s box at the Golden Picture Palace. Harold Lloyd was doing his mad stunts outside the top-floor window of a skyscraper, while Grace frantically kept up with the action on her piano. But that night neither of us was really in a laughing mood and I suddenly heard Honesty give a deep sigh.“What’s up?”MoreLess
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