12

She had picked it up at the thrift shop for a few dollars.

"Oh look, mom," she had said. "It's one of those cat clocks!"

Doris' mom, Mary, sniffed. "Oh, I've never really liked those cats."

"What did you find," Doris asked, happy to change the subject because she was in a good mood.

"I found a Sam Loyd puzzle, you remember Sam Loyd, don't you, dear?"

"No."

"Well, suffice it to say, he writes puzzles and I found one!" Doris briefly glanced at the corrugated metal box in her mom's mitts. This was apparently some kind of antique.

"What does it do?" she asked. The corrugated gray box didn't do anything unbidden - it just sat there. Apparently, you had to give it some provocation.

"Well," said Mary, "I have to send away for the instructions from the Loyd society but it's supposed to be a psychological trigger, which is quite exciting because there are only six in existence."

"Wow, wait, is it expensive? I would think if there are only six, they would charge a bundle for each one."

"Yes," said Mary, "but I got a deal."

A bald-headed man in a loose-fitting garment smiled and waves from the Housewares department. Mary smiled back and waved.

And back at the kitchen table, sixty seconds had gone by.

"Zam," Doris said, "There's something I need to say. I was going to just drop it but it's bothering me."

"Spill it!" Zamfir said.

"What you were saying about a slide?"

"Yeah?"

"It didn't make any sense."

"Oh," said Zamfir, his consternation burning off and dissipating. "Well, I was just saying, you know, all these crazy rules that the bureaucrats write about what you can paint your house, and whether you can tear down your house and whether you can-"

Doris shook her hand. "I know all that. But what has a slide got to do with it. You said you'd rather have a slide."

"Oh," Zamfir said. "Well, a slide is-"

Just then, the doorbell rang. "You'll excuse me while I see who that is?"

He went to the other room.

Doris blinked again.

"Well!" Zamfir said. "If it isn't Wolfgang Puck!"

Doris rolled her eyes but said nothing. They were old buddies.

"What's going on, Wolf!"

"Nothing," Puck said in his Austrian accent, comfortably removing his scarf and his tweedy gray coat. "Things have been pretty slow, so I took on a little side work."

As he followed Zamfir into the kitchen, Doris noticed Puck was wearing the pith helmet and light blue shirt of the U.S. Postal Service.

"Sit down, Wolf! Have some coffee!" He ribbed his buddy. "I'm sure it's not as good as YOU'RE used to," he said, making Doris roll her eyes again.

Puck took it in stride, smiling. "No, no, that's quite all right. Believe me, I drink some truly vile swill sometimes, just to be polite."

Both Doris and Zamfir stopped dead in their tracks.

"I'm KIDDING!" Puck said, and the room exploded in laughter.