Free Play It Again, Spam by Tamar Myers

said quietly. "I'll wait for him there."

    I put my sanity on the line and called my sister's fiancé, Melvin Stoltzfus. I used my private line, which can only be accessed
    from my bedroom.
    "Hernia police," a cheery voice said. It clearly did not belong to Melvin.
    My sigh of relief rustled the leaves in downtown Pittsburgh. "Zelda, dear, this is Magdalena. I need some help locating the
    whereabouts of one of my guests."
    "Have you lost someone again, Magdalena?"
    "No, and I didn't lose my fifth-grade Sunday-school class. They put sleeping pills in my coffee and sneaked out through the
    window. And it's not my fault - I told Reverend Schrock to put bars on it!"
    "Oh. Well, who is missing this time?"
    "A guest of mine. Dr. John Burk. Actually, he's not a real doctor - he's a fud."
    "What did you say?"
    "He's a Ph.D., dear."
    "Oh. Well, how long has this fud been missing?"
    "Uh - well, only a couple of hours, but his wife is really worried. Isn't there anything you can do to help?"
    "Magdalena, you know I'd like to help, but Melvin has his rules."
    "Yes, but he's not on duty today, is he?"
    "Actually, he is. He just ran over to Sam's to buy some band aids. He got a nasty paper cut."
    "Making airplanes again?"
    "Judge not, Magdalena. Isn't that what the Bible says?"
    I sighed. It is so hard to be charitable when the word is filled with idiots.
    "Zelda, I'm not asking that you issue an all-points bulletin or contact the F.B.I. I just want you to help me keep an eye out for
    this Burk fellow."
    It was Zelda's turn to sigh. A self-confessed agnostic, she is a much better Christian than I.
    "Okay. Give me a brief description."
    "Six feet, maybe two hundred and fifty pounds, mostly bald, and has a cumulus cloud crowning his cranium."
    "What?"
    "Never mind dear. Just put down that he always looks troubled."
    "Gotcha. Now I can't promise - just a minute." She put me on hold for the entire length of "Muskrat Love" by Captain and
    Tenille. Just when I was about to confess my sins and plead to be removed from hell, she got back on the line. "Sorry, they were
    stuck again."
    "Those crippled bats you wear?"
    "They're not crippled bats, Magdalena, they're eyelashes. These are the new Tammy Faye Ultralites. They're not supposed
    to stick like that. Now, where was Mr. Burk last seen?"
    "The PennDutch. He stormed off after a tiff with his wife and drove off in a new blue Saturn."
    "Oh,my."
    "Zelda, what is it?"
    "Are you sitting down, Magdalena?"
    "Yes." Actually, I was lying comfortably on my bed, my feet propped on a pile of pillows.
    "Do you think he might have run off with Susannah?"
    "What? You haven't been using that bourbon-based eyeliner again, have you?"
    "That was blush, and the color was called bourbon. Look, Magdalena, I'm trying to be helpful."
    "Then what's this stuff about Susannah running off with a geriatric Pittsburgher, for crying out loud? She's marrying Melvin
    the day after tomorrow!"
    I heard the receiver on the other end thud against Zelda's desk, strike something else, and then land on the floor with a loud
    crack. Only then did I remember that Zelda was hopelessly, and inexplicably, in love with her boss.
    "Zelda, I'm sorry! Zelda, can you hear me?"
    The noxious song about amorous rodents must have been on tape, because I got to hear it three more times.
    By the time Zelda picked up, I was resigned to an eternity of torment.
    "What did you say about my Melvin and Susannah?"
    "I'm sorry, dear, I thought you knew. I mean, you work with the man, for pete's sake. But don't feel bad, dear - I found out just
    yesterday afternoon."
    She was panting like an overweight jogger. "This is for real, Magdalena, isn't it?"
    "I'm afraid so, dear. The knot is to be tied Wednesday morning at his mother's farm. So you really didn't have a clue, huh?
    Because Sam said you were throwing them a big party tomorrow night."
    "I'm throwing Melvin a party. It's his birthday."
    I glanced at the square on my calendar in which I'd drawn a tiny