What´s That Smell?

“What´s that smell?” Herbert thought as he started his day in his one bedroom apartment. He remembered perceiving a similar foul smell the night before but now it was considerably worse.

When he came back from work the smell was magnified tenfold. It had been a sweltering hot day, with a threat of afternoon rain that never materialized. He left the windows closed for fear of the rain encroaching upon his apartment.

He all but tore his apartment apart looking for the source of the effluvium. He ruled out his apartment as the font of the putrid stench. Then he put his nose to the floor.

He found where the smell was coming from. Then, his heart sank. Mrs. Santos, an 82 year old widow lived below him. Now that he´d thought about it, he hadn´t seen her for days. Nobody ever came to visit her, so he thought the worst.

As he dialed the police, bittersweet thoughts passed through his head. On one hand, 82 years is not a bad run. On the other, she died alone and was literally rotting due to her solitude.

The police and ambulance showed up quickly. Herbert showed them to Mrs. Santos’ apartment. As the police officer knocked on the door, Herbert wiped a tear from his eye. The tear had more to do with the parallels in his life with Mrs. Santos than for the loss itself.

A taxi pulled near the apartment block but nobody noticed. The police were ready to force the door open when a little old lady approached from behind “Oh my!” she exclaimed, “What´s all this fuss?”

“Mrs. Santos!” Herbert cried, “We thought something terrible happened. There´s a terrible smell coming from your apartment and I haven´t seen you for days!”

“Oh my goodness! I was on a seniors retreat the past few days. I´m so absent minded lately. I must have cleaned a metric ton of beef shanks and ribs the day before I left. I guess I forgot to take out the trash with the trimmings” she explained.

Everybody accepted the story and exchanged pleasantries. Upon entering, Mrs. Santos opened her suitcase. She pulled out a box of charcoal air filter cartridges, a case of aerosol air freshener and four dead cats.

As she threw the dead felines into a heap of already decomposing animals in the hall closet she muttered “I´ll rid the world of you evil beasts with the angels in heaven as my witness”

The Connection

Beverly´s only real skill in life was being attractive to the opposite sex. She honed this skill the way a fighter hones various angles of his game, only with less hard work, dedication and honor involved in the process. She was constantly changing looks. Beverly didn´t really like men. She was not a lesbian, but she was in not sexually attracted to men. In fact, she really didn´t like much of anything about them. There was one thing she like in a man, money.

Beverly´s lack of attraction didn´t matter because she could fake it like an academy award winning actress. She could make a man feel like he was the only man she had ever truly loved. Many men to this day think of her as the women who fell the hardest for them.

In her younger days, Beverly would just drift from city to city spending a few months here, a few years there. She always found her way into the most posh apartments, finest restaurants and rubbing elbows in the highest social circles wherever she was. But now her years were catching up to her.

It was not that her looks were diminishing. She seemed to become more beautiful with age. It was that moving so often was getting tiresome and lonely. She wanted to stop. She wanted to live in familiarity for once. New was becoming boring.

She created a profile on a website specifically for women looking for men with money. She went to the trouble to buy a few expensive outfits and had professional pictures taken. She threw the bait out. Now she waited to land her whale.

Among the many messages she received over the first week. One caught her eye in particular. His name was Henry. His profile stated he was an entrepreneur, a very wealthy one at that. Beverly was not destitute by any means. She was smart over the years creating various accounts, depositing gifts from her suitors.

Beverly exchanged many messages with Henry and became very interested. He might be able to provide the soft landing she was looking for. And strangely, she felt that she might like him.

After a few weeks of back and forth they decided to meet. They decided to do it in a big way. They were to rendezvous in Cancun for an extended weekend. Henry had given Beverly a long story of how he had some funds frozen due to litigation in Europe and he asked her to spot him. He would pay her back as soon as the matter cleared. Beverly obliged. It was a mere investment in her eyes.

They spent the most fabulous weekend imaginable. Beverly was more sure than ever that she was on the right path. Henry, besides demonstrating great wealth, was handsome and fun to be around. His legal woes in Europe had increased and now a Chinese court was looking into a business of his. Beverly did not think twice about helping him out. Help him out now, help me out in the future, she thought.

After a few more sob stories and a few more wire transfers, Beverly´s funds started to get alarmingly low. When Henry asked for help again, Beverly had to deny. She hadn´t the funds he required. Soon after, Henry disappeared. He no longer answered e-mails. His cell phone was disconnected. Beverly was devastated.

She took what little funds she had and hired a private investigator to track Henry down. After a few weeks, the investigator found all he needed and closed the case. He brought his findings to Beverly. Henry, or Roberto, his birth name, had a criminal record thicker than Beverly´s passport from all the extra pages she needed. All of his crimes were of the white collar ilk. He had never done time. He was good. Apparently, better than Beverly.