Pickles & Dimes

(Note: all photos were taken by Becky, Jason’s mom)

Scene: Becky and Bob’s bedroom window

Time: 5:00 a.m.

Cardinal: [singing loudly]

Becky: Wow, that is LOUD!

Cardinal: I know! My singing has been measured at 90 decibels, which is the equivalent of standing on a subway platform!

Becky: I guess I’m up now.

Cardinal: Good! Now you can feed me.

Becky: Wonder what he wants? There’s already plenty of bird food out there.

Cardinal: Yeah, yeah, the suet and sunflower seeds are great, but I want peanuts!

Becky: [ignores bird]

Cardinal: Did you hear me? PEANUTS!

Becky: [still ignoring bird]

Cardinal: [starts tapping on bedroom window]

Becky: You’ve got to be kidding me.

Cardinal: TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP. PEANUTS! TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP.

Becky: I’m going in my office.

Cardinal, still near bedroom window: TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP.

Cardinal, now in office window: Hello! You can run, but you can’t hide! Did you enjoy my tapping?

Becky: Oh my god.

Cardinal: It took me years of training to build up my endurance. Would you care to hear another piece? It’s titled, “BRING ME SOME PEANUTS RIGHT NOW OR I WILL TAP RIGHT THROUGH YOUR SANITY.”

Cardinal: TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP.

Becky: [ignores cardinal; attempts to work]

Cardinal: I won’t be ignored, lady!

Arrive at work to discover workload has taken on summer blockbuster proportions. Am told to work from home on monster project. Yes, working from home! Check in with production manager and am told not to work from home because there might be “a proofing emergency.” Resist urge to comment, “Lawsie me, sheriff! Looks like we got ourselves a bona fide 5-alarm proofing emergency!”

Get interrupted 14 times in seven minutes while attempting to work on monster project. Discover that patience reservoir is bone dry. Tell sanity to hang on until lunch.

Discover there is a mandatory, all-employee meeting during lunch. Try to stifle the sound of soul dying.

During lunch meeting, coworker spills a full can of Dr. Pepper onto my pants. Is OK because it’s my favorite coworker, but urge to punch everyone else is overwhelming. Resolve to not swear weakening.

Vacation in three days. Estimated amount of sanity remaining: 2½ days worth.

Thanks for all your answers to my questions on my last post, and a big thanks to JMC, who recommended emailing author Jonathan Kellerman (whose main character is a psychologist who works with the police). She sent me a link to his website, where he listed his email, and after I debated whether or not I had the guts to email him, I finally crafted a short email asking for his advice.

He wrote me back. Within 24 hours. How awesome is that? His response:

Hi, Shauna. I’m loathe to tell any other writer how to construct story elements. And the answers to your questions don’t seem cut and dry. How police handle issues depends on individual police officers – and jurisdictions. No one, to my knowledge, has a legal obligation to refer to a therapist, though that might be a good thing to do. And people can respond in all kinds of ways to trauma.

Basically, you’ve got leeway.

Best,

JK

Guess who just catapulted to #1 on my list of favorite people? (Along with JMC, of course.)

In other news: this was how I started my day:

Jason: I had a really weird dream last night.

Me: Let’s hear it.

Jason: We went into this place that was filled entirely with women. You went in a door and abandoned me, and a woman told me I couldn’t stay. So I went outside and looked up at the signage, and you were in a strip club called “Knob Gobblers.”

Me: Eeeeew!!! Gross!

Jason: I know. And then I was mad that you got to go to a strip club, so I decided to go to one myself.

Me: OK.

Jason: But then I got mad because my club was called “The Boob Hut.”

OK. In lieu of actual content (work is busy, how DARE it), and at the request of some of you, here are some of the questions I need answered for my story. If you can help at all, that would be great. Otherwise, Jason’s mom has some connections I can ask, or I’ll call my local police department and see what they suggest.

1. If someone shoots themselves in the head, could the bullet go all the way through the skull? (I assume yes.)

2. Can someone who witnesses a suicide suffer such a shock that they could become temporarily mute? (I assume yes to this, as well.)

3. If so, how would the police deal with such a witness? If they concluded the death was actually a suicide, would they even need to interview them? (Assuming there are no other witnesses.)

4. Would that witness be referred to a therapist, and if so, how would a therapist treat them?

Thanks, guys!