DP Tool Club 19/CD_ASCQ_19_010295.iso/vrac/rubyv39.zip/RUBY39-8

Text File | 1994-11-25 | 6KB | 132 lines

Copyright 1994(c)

                  IN LOVING MEMORY OF LYN RUST
                      A Ruby Begonia Column
                   By Del Freeman and Lyn Rust

     On October 15, 1994, Lyn Rust sent me the following short
piece for Ruby Begonia:


     "A pair of docks!" exclaimed Ruby in exasperation.
     "What are 'a pair of docks'?" asked David warily.
     "Yeah, Ruby, whatever are you talking about?" Del added.
     "Jeez, are you guys vocabulary-challenged or sumphin'? I din't
expect part of my duties around here would be tutoring you guys in
how to talk good English."
     "Stuff it, Ruby," Del said with impatience. "Just tell us what
'docks' are and why you have a pair of them and what you're
planning to do with them."
     David got up and left the room, afraid to hear the answer.
     Ruby balled her hands into fists and plunked them onto her
waist in exasperation, realizing how far she'd have to go to
educate her writer/hostess and the guy who took out the garbage.
"It's a *problem*, dummy! You know . . . like a puzzle or a riddle
that don't make no sense. 'Sorta like a condrum but more harder,
see?" she said.
     Del sighed and got up to join David in the computer room.
Ruby shook her head and watched her go with dismay. It was clear
these people needed help and she had her work cut out for her.
She'd start first thing in the morning. But first, she had to make
a phone call.
                               ***


... Do with it as you will, said Lyn, and I filed it away, thinking
what to do.
     The foregoing snippet, a lot of late-night conversation, a
letter or two and a couple of photos are all I have left of Lyn,
now that she has gone to what I choose to believe is a kinder
repose. I publish, and expand on the thought, as she invited me to
do, in honor and memory of a loyal, loving friend -- Lyn Rust.

                               ***
     Kent Ballard lifted the ringing phone and heard heavy
breathing. "Cut it out, Loeb," said he.
     "This ain't Loop, you dodo," Ruby snapped. "This is me an' I
got me a problem."
     "You *are* a problem," opined Kent.
     "Lookit," said Ruby, "I ain't there, you know. I could be
there. In fact, I might should come on up and you can help me
figger this out... "
     "I think not," said Kent. "We are quarrantined. Some rare
something -- highly contagious. We expect to be deported to
Australia momentarily, anyway, so you'd be all alone. Just tell me
what your problem is and make it quick."
     "How can you leave the country if you're contagious?" asked
Ruby suspiciously.
     "If you're coming this way? By hijack, if necessary," said
Kent.
     "Yeh, yeh, I ain't got no snow boots, nohow," Ruby agreed.
"But what about this problem?"
     "Let's hear it," said Kent, leaning back and resting his feet
on the corner of his desk as he replenished his glass. Any bout
with Ruby required a lot of Staggering Highlander.
     "A pair of docks," said Ruby.
     "Huh?" asked Kent.
     "Docks. DOCKS! Are you deaf? Docks, a pair of 'em. It's a --
 uh, one a'them condoms, you know?"
     "Yeah?" said Kent.
     "BLLLAAAAT! Wrong answer," said Ruby. "I know where I can get
snow boots," she said.
     "Wait, I'll figure it out," said Kent. "Let me think about
it. Where'd you get it?"
     "Lyn gave it to me," said Ruby. "I don't want to retire on
this one, Dullard," said Ruby.
     "Just try not to get your fishnets in a ball," said Kent. Let
me check around and I'll call you back."
     "NOT collect!" said Ruby. "You know how cheap Freeman is."
     "Yeah, yeah," said Kent, anxious to get her off the phone and
come up with something that would satisfy her curiosity and keep
her in Florida. He broke the connection and quickly dialed again.
     "I got one for you," he said.
     "Mr. Loeb is not in," said Eric Loeb, recognizing the voice.
"He has gone to the emergency room for treatment of an ear fungus
resulting from sweaty ear, a condition derived from long
conversations with one Bent Dullard."
     "You're not fooling me, Eric, now get off it. This is
serious," said Kent.
     "Okay, what?" Eric gave up.
     "A pair of docks," said Kent.
     "The eagle flies at dawn," said Eric.
     "Knock it off, will you?" asked Kent. "Ruby wants to know and
if she doesn't find out, she's coming to visit. You," Kent lied.
     "What can I tell you, old buddy?" came the friendly response.
"I have no idea what this conversation is about, which is not an
unusual situation, come to think of it," he mused.
     "Well, I have no idea, either, but that's the phrase. What do
you make of it?"
     "Nada. Zilch. Absolutely nothing," said Eric. "Where'd she
come up with it?"
     "Lyn Rust gave it to her," said Kent.
     "So why are you asking me?" asked Eric. "Ask Lyn."
     "I'm not about to admit I can't figure it out," said an
offended Kent. "I'm giving it to you. You solve it. I'll tell Ruby
to expect to hear from you. Bye bud."
     Thonk. Buzz.
     Kent wiped his brow and silently congratulated himself.
     Eric pondered, then lifted the phone.
     "A pair of docks," he told Bill Slattery.
     "A tisket, a tasket," Slattery answered.
     "I think not," said Eric. "But it's yours now, bud."
     "A pair of docks," Slattery told Jackie Jones by phone minutes
later.
     "Who's the author?" asked Jackie, thinking it was some
obsolete tome.
     "Lyn Rust," said Slattery. "Take it away."
     Jackie listened to the buzz of the dial tone and pondered.
     "Curt, I think we've got a mystery," she said. "What do you
make of 'a pair of docks?'"
     "Duo-docks?" asked Curt.
     Jackie frowned. "I don't think so, but apparently we have to
find somebody to pass this thing to or Ruby'll come."
     "Herman Holtz," said Curt, and snapped his fingers. He dialed.
     And a phone tree grew like a magic beanstalk. Herman dialed
Michael Loo. And Michael dialed Lyle Davis. And Lyle dialed Jerry
Carter. And Jerry dialed Greg Kirby. And Greg dialed Allison
McDermott. And Allison dialed Louise Hagan. And Louise...
     And on and on it went, but none of the number of Lyn Rust's
friends could figure out what she possibly could have meant.
     And Lyn, from the comfy spot where she reposed, giggled and
nudged Beatrice Jones, and the two smiled.
                               END