Chameleo: A Strange but True Story of Invisible Spies, Heroin Addiction, and Homeland Security by Robert Guffey

Author:Robert Guffey
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: POL036000, Bisac Code 1: SOC063000
ISBN: 9781939293701
Publisher: OR Books
Published: 2015-01-03T05:00:00+00:00

17.

Dion vanished for the next three days. Melanie kept calling, but I told Stephanie to tell her I wasn’t around. “Tell her I died or I was abducted by flying monkeys, whatever.” I didn’t care what the excuse was. I just wanted to be left alone.

Near the end of the third day, Stephanie and I were watching the evening news. I was surprised by the fact that the lead stories on the local news shows were quite different from the ones you’d see in L.A. In L.A. the lead story was always something like, “Thirty-three children died today when their school bus was blown up by a disgruntled postal worker suffering from AIDS dementia.” In Seattle the lead story would be something like, “Man steals ATM machine.” That’s it. It was almost disconcerting.

On this particular night the lead story was about someone the cops were calling “The Goldilocks Bandit.” The newscaster reported that for the past three nights the Seattle PD had been overrun with complaints from one of the richest areas of Seattle. Someone was breaking into their homes in the wee hours of the morning, preparing a big meal in the kitchen, eating it while apparently watching TV (Nickelodeon), and then leaving without taking anything else. The thief liked ham and cheese sandwiches and Jell-O.

Stephanie and I just stared at each other.

“Do you think…?” Stephanie said.

“Who else would do that?” I said.

“What should we do?” she said.

“I’m no snitch,” I said. “He’s not going to break in here. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, almost.”

A day later Dion rolled up outside Stephanie’s apartment. I crawled into the back of the van and asked him where he’d been. He said he was spending some time on Broadway with Melanie. She was looking for a new place to live ever since Super Jew had kicked her out. He told me he and Melanie were very excited to find the exact Jack in the Box parking lot where Kurt Cobain used to score heroin.

“Cool,” I said. “By the way, are you the Goldilocks Bandit?”

“The what?”

“All over the news there’re these reports about this guy who breaks into people’s houses, has a little picnic in their living room, watches some TV, then bails without taking anything else. Is that you?”

Dion looked slightly nervous. “Fuck, why would I do that?”

“It sounds like something you would do.”

“Fuck, if I’m gonna go to all that trouble I’d be stealin’ more than just food.”

“Speaking of which, Stephanie’s been really fuckin’ stingy with her food. Do you have any you can share?”

“Sure,” Dion said, always the gracious host, spun around, and opened the tiny refrigerator in the corner. Back issues of Buttman Magazine and Nugget sat on top of the ice box. “What would you like?” Inside the refrigerator were stacks of orange and strawberry Jell-O.

I asked for a strawberry and he picked an orange one. As we sat in the back of his death van eating Jell-O I asked him what he planned to do in Seattle.

“I thought I’d live here for a while,” he said.

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