Success or Busted

Success is a two edged sword. As Emily Dickinson wrote, "Success is counted sweetest By those who ne'er succeed." In the first place, Dusty had gotten used to her private fetish being private. Now that the lights were on, and that it was out in the open, she was not so interested in the bunnies. She had risen from being unknown to being infamous.

She was concerned whether the public really liked the bunnies, or whether they were just laughing at her. And was Augusta in it for the money, or because he cared about her?

Would the bunnies stick around? What is like for a bunny to be examined in the flesh with a magnifier? "Look at that funny one," someone would say.

It was a hard moment for Dusty. She planned to have a talk with Augusta that evening.

As some tears came down her cheeks, she saw two men from city hall come through the door. They didn't look happy.

"We've had some complains from the neighbor, ma'am. Your house is a residence. You can't just hang up a sign and make in a darn sanctuary. You are not even supposed to have those bunnies, anyway. I thought Augusta and his crew cleaned them up. Augusta, what are you doing here? Are you a part of this?"

The Customer

Eliza had to restrain herself from selling a pillow to her eager customer. Sure, she could have sold one pillow. But her goal was to sell both pillows, not to leave any "new" pillows behind, to get full price for the pillows, to have the customer to sell some pillows to her friends, to get the cash in advance, and to get the customer's old pillows before delivering the new ones.

As Eliza was learning the ropes she was also learning the true meaning of Chutzpah. In its purest form, chutzpah is unrestrained audacity. It is difficult to say no to someone with chutzpah because they take permissions for their actions with such confidence.

Anyone can sell a good product for a low price. The opposite is more difficult. A true salesman takes pride in being able to sell anything to anyone. That is the meaning of being a professional.

Eliza was a quick study. Her customer believed that she had a new best friend who had a mission in life to deliver unadulterated sleep to her and her husband.

She almost gagged when her customer brought out her husband's pillow. Not only was it lumpy. Not only was it flat. Not only did it smell. It had the most disgusting stains that she ever seen.

"Listen, Miss. If I was a salesperson, I'd tell you that was the worst pillow I had ever seen. If I was youR best friend, I'd tell you the same. I'm supposed to be an impartial researcher, but for the moment I'm going to step out of those shoes. Your husband should not be sleeping on that pillow."

"But why? He says it is his best friend."

"Well, you either like him or hate him. If you like him, you don't want him to die from the diseases in such an atrocity. And if you hate him, you don't want him to lose him mind from ceropity, do you?"

"Ceropity? What is that?"

"It is not a common disease, but we are seeing more and more breakouts now that people are keeping their pillows longer and longer. I'm going to have to take your husband's pillow. I promise I'll have a new pillow back for him before he comes home from work. And because I'm not supposed to be selling you anything, I'll give it to you at cost. In fact, I'd like to be able to bring you two pillows back for you and your husband. Now go get me your pillow."

"But what will the pillows cost?"

"Cost? What does a bout of ceropity cost? What does it cost to bury a husband and find a new one?"

"I guess you are right. I'll have to go to the bank. How much will I owe you."

"$200 for the two pillows. I'll get in trouble selling them so cheap. But I want you and your husband to be safe, starting tonight. Doing pillow research is my opportunity to make the world a better place. Now go get your pillow so I can be on my way."

"Sure. I'll be right back."

Opening Day

The sanctuary was ready and the bunnies were dressed in some fresh dust. Augusta spent the night on the couch so he'd be able to be ready for the crowds at day break. They had forgotten to mention the hours on some of the publicity so Dusty and Augusta figured some would come at dawn.

The Hummer was gassed up and ready for the crowds. Dirty Hairy was assigned the task of keeping people from walking up the road. Only 4 people were let into the sanctuary at a time, and no kids under 10.

No one complained about the $5 tickets and everyone was delighted to see the bunnies under the magnifying lens. Dusty gave a little talk to each crowd which became more polished as the day progressed.

My dear friends of the Dust Bunny Sanctuary. Some day you'll be able to tell your children and grandchildren that you were here on the first day we were open to the public. I congratulate you for your choice to spend this fine day in a sanctuary with such a divine presence.

As you experience the bunnies, please try to feel the sensations you get from them. Notice their hairy texture and the variety of their colorations. It is not necessary to conceptualize your reaction with them. Just be with the bunnies and they will be with you. They will become your angels and will guide you through good and bad times.

Enough said. Now enjoy my friends and when you get home, stop cleaning and enjoy your dirt for the diamond that it is.

Perhaps Dusty went a little far, but the crowd loved it. It was evident that Dusty and Augusta would need to start taking reservation because the lines were going out to the highway.

Success had come to Dustland.

Lots has Happened

Alfred called his buddy the detective to put out an all-points bulletin for Eliza. His buddy owed him because Alfred saved his life in Nam.

In the meantime, Softy and Eliza set out in opposite directions with pillows under their arms. They had a somewhat healthy competitive spirit to see who can sell the most pillows.

Eliza knocked on the door of her first customer.

"Hello, I'm representing one of the largest door-to-door pillow marketing companies and we are gather marketing ideas for the development of a new line. Unfortunately we don't have any pillows to sell you, but we'd like to show you our newest model. May I come in."

Eliza knew that everyone wants what they can't have. Lying was becoming second nature to her.

"Sure, come in. My husband is always complaining about his pillow. And yet when I try to get him a new one he complains that it is too stiff. Doesn't anyone make a pillow that is soft right out of the box."

"Would you bring out his pillow. I'd like you to compare it to this one that I have underneath my arm."

"Sure. I'd love to show you the disgusting lump that he calls his best friend. Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could switch it out and he wouldn't even notice it."

"Remember, I'm not selling these pillows. I'm just looking for some marketing opinions. But maybe something can be worked out at a later date."

"We'll, let me get his lump of a pillow. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, that will be nice."

The Grand Opening

Progress went lightening fast on the commercialization of the sanctuary. The press release was written and Augusta gave it to his friend on the newspaper. His friend started to roll on the floor laughing, thinking it was a joke.

Augusta almost lost his temper, but instead laughed with his friend a little and then admitted that the sanctuary was out of the ordinary and that is why the sanctuary should be of interest to the public.

Well, the newspaper ran the article, and understandably it caused a lot of commotion. One prominent citizen wrote a letter to the editor:

How dare you run an article about a dust sanctuary. Do you not respect the Christian value that cleanliness is next to godliness? Do you not realize that dust bunnies are the eye sore in any home and to glorify those buggers is nothing less than sin? Get off your high horse of tolerance and grow back your moral backbone.

Well, the letter and the fact that the sanctuary was now the main topic of conversation in Dustland was great PR for the opening. In fact, for opening day, Dusty and Augusta decided to limit the visits to 5 minutes so that more people could go through.

Then Augusta painted large bunnies on the doors of the Hummer and on the side of the house. Dusty was pleased with the progress, though concerned that the bunnies were not yet arranged safely in the house and that the path for the visitors was not yet indicated on the floor.

With the opening two days away, they decided that they'd spend the next day on these issues. Augusta came back with a thin red carpet to indicate where people should walk, and some magnifying glass for the visitors.

He called the power company and got the electricity turned on. He worked out a payment plan with them for Dusty to pay her past bills off.

The sun was shining brightly on Dusty's Sanctuary. It was a good day in Dustland.

A New Day

Softy and Eliza drove into the sunrise, believing that they had Alfred's blessing.

Far from a blessing, Alfred was so furious that he could barely see well enough to drive to work. Then he remembered their meager savings in the local National City Bank and realized that he should go by the bank on the way to work. He discovered that she had taken all their savings, which added considerably to his fury.

He did go to work, however, knowing that he'd be out on the street without his job if he missed another day of work. "How am I going to pursue Eliza and keep my job?" he muttered to himself.

It wasn't long before Softy and Eliza got hungry and decided to stop for breakfast. They'd had never been to a restaurant together.

Softy ordered eggs sunny side up, but not runny, toast with half of a pad of butter, and coffee with a little nutmeg.

Unbelievably, Eliza ordered the same and they then knew that they were made in Heaven for each other.

"Do you think I really should have taken all the savings, Softy?"

"You said you were just borrowing it. With your brains and my experience, we'll be able to pay him back with interest."

"Don't you think I ought to give him a call or write him a letter. I certainly don't want him to come after me."

"He find some chick and forget about you and the money before the sun sets."

"I hope so."

"Do you think we could sell some pillows in this town?"

"Let's give it a try."

The Press Release

It was starting to get dark so Dusty lit a candle. Then she proceeded to write the press release.

Hear ye, hear ye . . .

"Dusty, this is not a resolution, it is a press release."

"Ok, if you are so smart Augusta, you write it."

"Don't mind if I do."

Announcing the opening of the Mid-America Dust Bunny Sanctuary

"I didn't mean that you'd name the sanctuary. I started it, so I should name it. How about "Dusty's Home for the Ignored?"

"That's a little esoteric, whatever that means. How will they know who the ignored are, and suppose that people want to be taken in by the home because they feel ignored. You don't want that, do you? How about "Home for Destitute Dust Bunnies (HDDB)?"

"I like that, Augusta."

Home for Destitute Dust Bunnies (HDDB)
Starting September 15 Dusty and Augusta will be . . . .

"Augusta, I never agreed that we'd be partners."

"Well, we better settle that first. May I be a partner in your enterprise? I want none of the profits. I just want to see your sanctuary prosper."

"That is very sweet Augusta. How about a "limited partnership?" You'll be the directer of the shuttle service and PR."

"Ok, if that all you'll give me for now, I'll have to take it."

"Good. Now keep writing before the candle burns out."

Alfred Comes to his Senses

Alfred fell asleep in his chair, leaving the TV on. Eliza was glad of that so she wouldn't have to make excuses why he couldn't make love (if you want to call it that) to her.

The morning sun burst through the window and awoke him. He staggered into the shower, knowing that it was his only chance to get to work looking decent and on time. His boss had threatened to fire him numerous times because of his slovenly appearance and tardiness. He knew that a cat had nine lives and he wasn't as lucky as a cat.

He forgot to turn on the light in the bathroom. His head hurt from his drinking, and anyway, bright lights were not what he wanted for breakfast.

He reached to adjust the shower head and felt the rolled letter hanging from the shower. "What's this?" he said to himself.

He unrolled the letter, turned on the lights, and started reading. He then remembered that Eliza told him the night before that she was leaving him. His face turned red with anger.

"There is no way that bitch is leaving me," he said out loud, "Eliza, Eliza, come here this instant."

But the house was quiet and he figured the worst. She had left already.

He knew that he couldn't afford to lose his job, so he put the letter on the sink and went back into the shower. He knew that he'd come up with a plan to find Eliza and she'd be sorry that she had run out on him. "That bitch will never run out on me again," he muttered to himself with confidence.

Dusty Listens to the Plan

If Dusty or her bunnies weren't in such a predicament she would not have been so eager to hear Augusta's plan. This was a time when something needed to be done or her house and its residents (the dust bunnies) would be evacuated.

"Well, Dusty, my idea is that you charge people to come and see some your bunnies. Initially you could just open up one room, and you'd hand people magnifiers and they'd come and see your bunnies. There is not too much happening in Dustland and people will appreciate the opportunity for a new experience. You could even play dust bunny music, wear a dust bunny hat, and serve bunny lemonade. But let's start . . . ."

"Hey, wait a second mister, you are on probation. You are assuming that we'll be partners."

"Didn't you notice how I cleaned up, stepped gently, and brought you flowers?"

"Yes, but what will you look like tomorrow? In any case, keep talking. What could I charge people?"

"I think people will be thrilled to pay $5 for the opportunity to see a few of your most interesting bunnies."

"I'm interested. But they will have to take their shoes off and step on designated marks on the floor. We can't take any chances. How do you think we could get the word around?"

"Press releases are the best and cheapest way. Other than signs, that is. Let's do a sign on the highway, and a press release."

"Sounds great. If we write the press release, can you type it at work so it looks good."

"Sure, I'll be glad to do that. And I know someone at the newspaper."

"Say, I don't have any parking."

"Dusty, I've thought of everything. I get to use my Hummer on my day off. How about if I shuttle people from the road to your house one day a week. They'll get 15 minutes at the sanctuary for $5, and then they get shuttled back."

"Yes, and they'll love the Hummer ride as well as the bunnies. And we could ask them to become members of the sanctuary society that will entitle them to one free tour of the sanctuary each month. That way I'll get a little cash flow right away to get the utilities turned on."

"Now your thinking!"

Dusty hugged Augusta and then went off to find some paper and a pen to write the press release.

Letter for the Shower

Eliza decided to write Alfred a letter because he tended to be confused about what she would say to him. She'd leave it hanging from the shower. His most sober moments tended to be in the morning when he took a shower.

Dear Alfred,

My name is Eliza. That might seem like a casual repetition of a fact you already know, but I'm leaving you because you don't really get it. I never wanted to be primarily a woman, or your wife, or even a homosapien. I just wanted to be Eliza and to surround myself with others you recognize me as such. It is not primarily my mission in life to wash your dishes or stinky underwear. It is my mission to be me.

I am here, or am I? Some part of me has been married to you, trying moment by moment to recreate that original love that I had for you. But when you come home, day after day, drunk and stupid and mean, it is hard to be here, and I tend to live more in the positive aspects of my past, or in the hope I have for the future.

In a sense all of us Earthlings are here and everywhere. We host atoms who belong to everyone who is, was, and will be alive. We have histories that go back to the beginning of time, and dreams that extend to the end of time. Part of me will always be here with you, and part of you will be here with me, no matter where I go.

I'm not sure what the "I" is of me. That is going to be my search. What will it look like as I paint this picture of "I" with words, with actions, and pictures? Who is Eliza?

In my search for her, you certainly will be part of my heart and soul. And I thank you for that.

Peace be with you, Alfred.

Your loving partner,

Eliza

Eliza went to the bathroom and tied a string to the shower head. At the other end of the string she put the letter, rolled up tightly.

Augusta Starts to Sell "the Idea"

As Augusta walked toward the door of Dusty's house with some trepidation. Part of him was attracted by her caring nature, and part was repulsed by her squalor. Then he remembered his plan, and confidently proceeded.

The door opened slowly before he was able to knock on it. Dusty always did that so as to not stir around the dust bunnies. Augusta realized that the safety of the bunnies must be a high priority if they decide to commercialize the sanctuary.

"Hello Dusty, it is good to see you."

"I am glad that you have returned, Augusta, and you look like quite the gentleman. May I take your hat? Would you like something to drink."

Augusta knew that giving her his hat was one thing, but getting something to drink was courting danger.

"Here's my hat. I don't need anything to drink. Just had breakfast."

"Will, come on in."

As Augusta came it, he walked very carefully to avoid the bunnies. In fact, to the outsider, it might have looked that he was doing a ballet dance as he stepped so carefully on the few spots of floor that weren't already occupied.

"Augusta, I assume by your dress and manner that you took some of my suggestions to heart. I'm so proud of you for doing that. I know that it must have been a blow to your ego to hear such criticisms."

"Dusty, I have taken seriously your suggestions and find them helpful and reasonable. I do have an idea that I'd like to discuss with you for the dust bunny sanctuary."

"Augusta, before you start I need to let you know that I don't think I'll be here long. I owe five years of back taxes and have no income. I can't get welfare because I own the house, and I can't live in the house anymore unless I can get welfare. Great to be in America, isn't it."

"Let's not start comparing America with some other countries that I've been in. But I agree that you are in a quandary, and I have just the plan where you can not only stay in your house, but you will get enough money to turn on the utilities. And you'll be able to share your love for dust bunnies with the world."

"I'm all ears," Dusty said.

Eliza Confronts Alfred

Alfred came home early that night, as Eliza was planning her escape. Her suitcase was packed and hidden behind a bush. It would have been easy to leave Alfred as he was snoring away one more hangover.

And that was the plan. Except Eliza had a smile on her face that she couldn't hide.

"What's going on, Eliza, you have that look on your face?"

"What look is that, Alfred."

"It is the look of having something up your sleeve. Let me look at your sleeve."

Alfred grabs Eliza and tries to pull up her sleeve. When she resists, he tries to kiss her. She resists that too.

"Leave me alone. I told you that I can't stand men who have been drinking."

"The bottom line is that you can't stand me."

"Yes, that's right. I can't stand you."

"Now the truth is coming out."

"And I'm leaving you tomorrow."

"How are you going to do that? I support you."

"That's my problem."

"It certainly will be. Is my mother in on this?"

"No. Of course not."

"So where will you go."

"On a mission of mercy."

"So you're going to become a nun or something."

"More like something."

"Good riddance. I hope to never see you again."

Alfred went to the icebox and got another beer. He opened it and sat in front of the TV, turning it on loudly with his back to Eliza.

"That wasn't so bad. I wonder if he'll really let me go that easily," Eliza wondered.

Augusta Decides

Augusta’s father always said, “Go for it.” Augusta thought of his father as he made his decision to pursue his relationship with Dusty. But he knew that when he focused on some of her specific traits he was unsure of his decision, so he just focused on those traits that were more to his liking, especially the way she cared for him.

He knew that, if he was going to get her to change, he’d have to change himself, or at least make some pretense. So he decided to put on some regular clothes, a little bit of aftershave, some dress shoes, and pay her a visit. First he made a stop at the flower store, and then a stop at the candy store. "No six pack of beer, maybe a bottle of wine. Maybe flowers and candy are too much,” he thought, “No, maybe flowers this time and save the candy for the next.”

He decided to call Dusty first, but then remembered that she didn’t have a phone. Her poverty was certainly an issue. He wondered if he could get her out of her situation.

He pondered too how she could pay her property taxes. It seemed that she lived on nothing. Certainly she should be able to charge admission for visits to her sanctuary.

The light bulb went on. Before Augusta was a cop he sold air conditioners. He had quite a flair for sizing up his customers and emptying their pockets.

If he could get Dusty sold on the idea of going commercial, perhaps she would be able to afford such things as light and heat. Augusta smiled, thinking, “It is a brilliant idea, if I must say so myself.”

It was one of those days when he was in a hurry, yet every traffic light was red. Finally he pulled into Dusty’s drive and saw her looking out of the window. He hid the flowers behind his back and walked toward her house.

Will Eliza Spy?

"Softy, I'm having some trouble understanding why you'd go to such lengths to fake your death when you could have just divorced Dusty."

"Dusty would have been so heartbroken if I told her I couldn't stand to live with her."

"But think how devastated she must be to believe that you are dead. And she might be starving to death without any water or heat. You said that she is too strange to be able to work at a job."

"Well, I am worrying about her."

"Worry does not feed the stomach. We need to go to Dustland right now and make sure she is alright."

"But what if she is not. What can we do?"

"We need to take care of her. Somehow?"

"But how?"

"There is only one way. But before we get to that, let's see what the facts are. We'll leave tomorrow for Dustland and we'll only sell enough pillows along the way for gas and a little food. Agreed, partner?"

"Agreed!"

Augusta Cleans Up

The combination of the remaining lard and Hairy's saliva made August feel especially dirty. "What am I getting into?" he wondered.

His mother had told him to count to 10 when he was faced with a confusing situation. He tried 10, but his confusion remained. "Maybe she meant 100," he thought.

Finally he made it home, sitting on old newspapers in his car so that he wouldn't soil the seats. The lard, unfortunately, dissolved the ink on the newspaper and words, in reverse, covered his legs and cargo shorts.

He threw his clothes in the wash and went right for the shower. He couldn't get the water hot enough or stay in the shower long enough to feel clean again. He got out of the shower, dried himself off, and then decided to show once again. "Now that's better," he concluded.

He became clear about two things taking the second shower: 1) that he could never see Eliza again, that he could take her as she was, or that he could change her and 2) that he would change her as she wanted to change him. "Tit for tat," he thought.

The Big Confession

"Eliza, I may be a married man. I'm not sure. I was married to a crazy gal named Dusty who runs a dust bunny sanctuary. She and her dog, Dirty Hairy, are filthy. They not only liked dirt— sometimes they both even looked like dirt. Life was a living hell for me.

I needed to get out, and I wanted Eliza to get my pension so she wouldn't starve to death. I knew that she was too far gone to work at a job.

I had a shed behind the house where I conducted chemistry experiments to improve the pillows. I tried to make a synthetic pillow that would cost virtually nothing to produce and would have the softness and recoverability of a feather.

Before I got too far into my research I came up with the idea of faking my death. After exploring a number of options, I decided to blow up the shack and make it look like I was blown up as well. That way Dusty would be able to get my pension, and even remarry, should she find anyone who could stand her.

So on one cold day in October, I made a sort of time bomb with a couple of chemicals and a clock. I was out of the shack just in time and watched the explosion from behind a tree in a forest. I saw Dusty and Dirty starting to run toward the blaze, and then I vanished.

Perhaps curiosity did kill the cat, but I really want to know if Dusty is alive and well, and if she got my pension. Is she heartbroken? Has she found a new man? Did she get remarried? Have I been officially proclaimed dead?

I could use your help here. Obviously it would be a disaster if I went and knocked on her door. I'm wondering if you could do a little leg work for me? If you'll still have me, that is."

A Mess

It was a sad mess. Dusty greased up Augusta with the lard from the inside of her house, then went outside and pulled him out. Time for a shower, you say? Well, remember that Dusty had no running water.

If Augusta looked bad with the boots, the cargo shorts, and the Hawaiian shirt, he really looked bad covered with lard. And then the flies discovered him. He turned black with a solid layer of flies. He tried rolling on the floor to squish the flies, but Dusty got hysterical, fearing that her bunnies would die too. Finally Dirty Hairy, who had been sleeping, got into the act and started licking the lard off Augusta from head to toes.

Eventually Augusta was lickety clean, so to speak. The flies were sluggish from the great meal, and Dusty was relieved that there was no longer extreme turmoil in his habitat.

"Augusta, that was quite an experience that we had, wasn't it. Some day we may be able to laugh about it. In the meantime, maybe you'd like to take your hat and go home and change. I assume that you decided that change was an acceptable price to pay for our relationship."

"Now wait a second, Dusty. You'll need to tell me how you can like me, and err . . . not like me at the same time?"

"A lot of what we like in a person isn't right in front of us, but it is what we know about them. It is a combination of our experiences and our projection into the past . . . future, I mean."

Dusty talked like one of her university professors. Unfortunately she didn't understand what he meant when she was in college and still didn't understand it any better.

"What arrrre you talking about? You are avoiding my question. But I'm so uncomfortable to be covered with Dirty's saliva, and so confused about our relationship that I will go home. When I clean up maybe I'll be able to see the whole situation with a smidgen of clarity."

"Now don't you forget your hat. I'll be waiting for you. I hope you'll come back. Now I have to feed the bunnies."

Eliza Responds

"Softy, you must understand that I'm madly in love with you. Perhaps love is blind, but to me you are the savior of humanity.

And to save all those chickens by reusing the feathers . . . what a wonderful idea.

As you were talking, I started wondering if the deception is really necessary, or could we turn your recycling of the feathers into a talking point. Imagine if we said that our pillows use renewable resources. In addition, we call them "peace pillows" because everyone would be sleeping with the energies of others. Feathers are so light that I believe they have a lot of room to soak up energies."

"Eliza, those are interesting ideas. I can see that you'll be a good partner. But perhaps you'll want nothing to do with me when I tell you the rest of my story."

"How could I have nothing to do with you. I love you. And I learned from the Bible that we should not criticize the splinter in your brother's eye until we see the log in our own eye."

"Wait until you hear my story. I've been living alone with this burden for five years now, and I need to tell it to you."

"What could be so terrible, Softy. Did you murder someone?"

"Well, I murdered myself. But let me start from the beginning."

"If you murdered yourself, then you must be dead."

"Not quite. Now be quiet and I'll start from the beginning."

Augusta Arrested by a Dog Door

"Augusta, you silly thing, you are stuck in the dog door. Shhh Dirty, stop that barking."

"Why didn't you answer my knocks."

"I discovered that one of my bunnies has been murdered. I've had that bunny since Softy left."

"Will you p l e a s e get me out of this door. I think you need to pull me back out from the outside."

Dusty carefully opened the front door (so as to not cause a breeze that would disrupt her bunnies) and went toward the dog door. She grabbed Augusta by the boots and started to pull. It became immediately obvious that he was stuck. She put on her thinking cap and decided to brainstorm: leave him captive stuck in the door, tie a rope to him and to his car and back him out, cut him in half, cover him with lard and slip him out. The last idea seemed the best, as it usually does.

"Augusta, just hold on, I'm going to get some lard and slip you out."

"I'm not going anywhere, Dusty. That is the problem."

"Augusta, please have a sense of humor. It isn't every day that a cop is arrested by a dog door."

"Well, hurry up, will you?"

Dusty went back into the house and got the lard. "This will be very messy," she said to herself with a grin on her face. She went outside, but then decided that it was the part of him on the inside that needed the lard to slip back out. She went back inside and said,"now hold still while I take your shirt off. We don't want to rip the shirt when you come tumbling through the hole."

"Anything. Just do anything to get me out of here. What would the other cops say if they saw me like this?"

The Story, Part 1

"Eliza, before you get too involved with me, you'll need to know a few things about the pillows that I sell and about my past. Having been raised a good Catholic, I was taught to believe that confession will help the salvation of my soul. I can't really talk to a priest because he might think that what I have done is so bad that he'd turn me over to the authorities.

First, let me tell you about the pillows I sell. I used to buy fairly good pillows from wholesalers. But my credit got worse and worse, and so I had to improvise. If you notice, I always ask the customer for their old pillows. The truth be told, the problem with most pillows is that they haven't been adequately fluffed. I take the old pillows, rid them of their casings, dump the feathers into a heavy duty garbage bag, and viola, I have the makings of a new pillow. Pre-owned, as the car salesmen like to say.

I take the feathers and fill them into a pillow bag, as the industry calls them. Then I whip out that little sewing machine I have in my trunk and sew the seams together. I attach a look-alike label to the brand the Neiman-Marcus sells, and my total cost is never more than a couple of bucks a pillow.

You might think I'm sleazy doing this. I would understand that, but before you jump to any conclusions, please listen to why I believe that I make the world a much better place for all my customers.

As the Buddha discovered, people suffer. He was off-base thinking that the source of suffering was that they did not know their essential self. They suffer because they don't get any comfort at night. And I can alleviate that suffering by selling them a comfortable fluffed pillow.

Now you might wonder why I don't sell the pillows for ten dollars rather than one hundred and forty-nine dollars. We tend to enjoy quality things. And to the novice, there is little difference between quality and expensive. So I make it expensive and they love it.

Eliza, before I go on with the second story, I want to be sure that you are still with me, and that you want to join my missionary, so to speak, and give comfort to the multitudes that suffer so severely."